A/N So apparently songfics aren't allowed on Fanfiction's platform. Please take the time to travel to my Wattpad where this story is published in its entirety. Thanks! The link is available on my profile.
It was a boring night at the Shay's house. And what better game to remedy boredom than Never Have I Ever? At least, that's wat Carly thought.
Sam, Freddie, Carly, and Gibby all sat in a circle, a large bottle of soda in the middle of them.
"Okay," Carly started, "how this works is when it's our turn we each say something we've never done. If one of the others have done it, we take a swig." The group all vocalized their understanding, and the game began. It started off normally enough, about kisses and food and embarrassment. The it progressed to something else.
"Never have I ever…gotten drunk," Carly said smugly, certain that Sam would be the only one drinking. Much to her surprise, Freddie and Sam exchanged glances before passing the Peppy Cola bottle between them. "What?!" Carly exclaimed, looking at her two friends. "You HAVE to tell me that story!"
Freddie looked at Sam, who drew her lips into a twisted, unsure smile and shrugged.
"Sure," she said to him. "If you want to."
"Well," Freddie began. "I didn't really know why, but she asked me to come to this fair with her…"
14th of October
"So, remind me why I'm here?" Freddie asked, walking leisurely beside Sam. He watched a Ferris wheel slowly spin, the bright yellow and purple lights on its passenger cabins a stark difference from the pitch-black night sky.
"Cause Fredwardo, I wanted to come, and you said yes." Sam drawled, her fingers wrapped around a novelty pink T-Shirt she had won from a vendor. It hung draped on her shoulder, swaying slightly with each stride. Freddie laughed slightly, looking down and then back at Sam with a rather cute (though Sam wouldn't admit it) half smile.
"Yes, but what I meant was -"
"Shut it."
"Kay."
~I was drunk
Freddie fiddled with the now almost empty tall plastic cup in his hand. At first, he tried his best not to gag. Now, he got used to the god-awful, yeasty burning and sharp taste enough that he could drink the whole cup.
Sam was surprised when he wanted a drink, and very much unlike herself. Freddie had never seen a considerate Sam before. She was at a vendor stand, where she apparently knew the guy. He had no quarrels giving her alcohol, and spiking it with hard liquor he probably wasn't supposed to sell, even though she was young enough to make any legitimate bartender card her. Sam started to order a coke for him, but he cut her off before she could finish, saying he wanted what she got too. His request made Sam bite her lip and offer what was a very uncharacteristic reassuring statement that he didn't have to drink just because she was. She even said she wouldn't make fun of him (to which Freddie internally wished he brought his video camera). He must have had a rather stunned look on his face, because she scowled and whispered:
"Look Benson, it's not fun to be pressured to do something you don't wanna do. I know, okay? So just…" Freddie smirked and nudged her with his elbow.
"Thanks Puckett. But I still want that drink."
Now, he was finding it hard to not bump into things. He tipped the cup back and swallowed the last little bit, tossing the cup into a large trash can he passed. Which he ended up accidentally kicking. Sam snorted and grabbed his arm, pulling him into an area with less people.
"You're drunk!" She laughed, mouth open and sounding disbelieving.
"I am not, I'm sober. Perfectly sober."
"Yeah, right." Sam giggled and pushed her friend slightly, watching him stumble a bit more than someone normally would.
"Shut up Saaam."
Sam giggled again and playfully punched his arm.
"That was totally your first time drinking. Thought you said a while ago you were gonna 'Wait until the moment was right?' or whatever." Freddie leaned back against the brick wall behind him, crossing his arms and smiling. He felt a little less wobbly this way.
"I'm at a carnival and it's the middle of October and its surprisingly warm and its late and I'm with my best friend who happens to be very pretty and I happen to be very happy. Is there a more right moment?"
Sam turned and punched his arm again, harder this time in an attempt to rid her stomach of butterflies, but she still pursed her lips to contain the grin that was trying to spread across her face.
~we pretended Like I was your guy
"And then, I said 'No chiz waffles are good!' I swear he thought it was a revolution or revelation or whatever." Sam half screamed half laughed as Freddie guffawed so much he had to bend over to catch his breath. When he stood back up straight, he noticed a rather tall and skinny guy standing next to Sam.
"Hey, can I buy the pretty lady a soda?" He asked, moving to touch his arm. Without warning, Sam leaned over and grasped Freddie's hand firmly.
"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm actually here with my boyfriend." Freddie stared, feeling suddenly tingly from more than just the alcohol.
"Oh," he mumbled as he turned to walk away. "Sorry." He didn't sound sorry either.
It took Freddie a minute to start speaking again.
"I, um, so, that was weird, right?"
"Yep," Sam replied cheerfully, turning back to the crowd. "Ooh look, we have to go on that!" she exclaimed, tugging at Freddie, whose hand she was still grasping. He sort of hoped she wouldn't let go.
"Lead the way, Sam."
Oh, and I tried to guess your middle nameFor thirty minutes bet we played that game
"Rebecca?"
"Ew no."
"Mary?"
"Boooring."
"Rose?"
"Wrong."
"You gonna tell me?"
"Nope."
"It's fart face isn't it."
"Ow! Jeez that was a strong hit!"
That mango-rita
"I uuused to rooolll the diiice, feel the fear in my enemyy's eyyyess," They were on the outskirts of the carnival now, with just a few people around to cringe at the poorly sung lyrics. Freddie knew that her singing was terrible, but he couldn't help but like the sound of her voice anyways. He tapped her shoulder, breaking her musical trance.
"What did you say that was?" He asked, pointing at the cone-like glass in her hand filled with an orange liquid. He was trying to keep track of the number of drinks she's had. So far it was three, and she seemed to be only as drunk as he was with one.
"Mango-rita," she replied in a sing-song voice, then looking down at the drink before raising it to her lips again.
"Can I try it?" Freddie couldn't help but be curious. As someone so inexperienced with the world of alcohol standing next to a girl who had it in her past, he assumed she knew what tasted good.
"Mhmmm" she hummed, handing it to him. He sipped, swirling the sweet and tangy liquid in his mouth. It was cold, but not in the temperature way, and better than his first drink. He handed it back to her, placing his hand on top of hers for a moment before he let go.
~Unforgettable
Carly, Gibby, and Sam stared at him, though all in slightly different ways.
"You remember all that? You did all that?" Carly asked, sounding disbelieving and impressed at the same time.
"You really remember all that?" Sam asked softly, a hint of something in her voice.
"Man, carnivals have gooood corndogs." Gibby said, staring off into the distance.
"How could I forget? There's more…" Freddie replied, peeling back part of the rubber that was coming off his shoe. He twirled it in-between his fingers as he continued.
runnin' man
Freddie watched Sam as she bounced up and down, jumping in place to the rhythm of an electric song blaring out of three-foot-high speakers.
"Come on Freddie!" She yelled, straining her voice to have it carry over the speakers. Freddie laughed and stepped forward, holding up a finger.
"Alright Miss Puckett, watch this." Freddie crossed and uncrossed his arms in front of him while sliding his feet back in what he imagined was a piss-poor rendition of the running man. His blonde companion, however, seemed to love it despite its poor execution. She covered her mouth as she laughed for the thousandth time that night, loud enough for the pitch to carry to Freddie's ears.
"Nice one, Fredgroove," She teased, laughing again at her own bad nickname. "Follow me," she called to him, walking over to yet another tent. Freddie raised his eyebrows at her, but she simply shook her head and smiled while motioning for him to wait. So, he did, taking a seat at another picnic bench.
When Sam returned, she was carrying one bottle of Coors and an armful of tiny cups. She let them all tumble onto the table, catching the few stray bottles that tried to roll over the edge. Freddie's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.
"What is this?" He asked, picking up a couple of the mini cups.
"Well," Sam huffed, blowing her hair out of her face, "I think both of us wouldn't fare well with more liquor. So, I got beer. Now we can pretend we're hard going clubbers or rappers on their way to Hollywood or…something."
Freddie nodded, the corners of his mouth curling.
"Okay, shots it is." Sam poured him three and he knocked the first two out in quick succession. She pretended to gasp in shock.
"Wow Freddie you've really matured! Look at you, taking those hardcore shots like its nothing!" Freddie, who was in the process of downing his third, laughed mid drink, spraying beer all over the table and Sam in a beautiful yet gross spit-take.
Where everything went down
Freddie wasn't expecting it. They were walking back to his car, pitching out ideas for transportation since they both knew they weren't about to drive home.
"We're not calling Carly," Freddie said firmly, putting too much emphasis on some of the wrong syllables.
"Well no duh Freduh." Sam spoke loudly, swinging her arms at her side. "Hey, wait a second Freddie." Freddie turned, stopping to take in the orange glow of her hair from the streetlight. There was something about Sam being drunk: goofy and happy and all smiles instead of anger, that made her very pretty, too. He barely had time to register the slap slide across his face.
"Ow," he said, but it was more of a reflex than anything, it didn't hurt. Confused, he realized Sam barely put any power behind it. Before he had a chance to ask her about her lack of viciousness, she ran a hand through her hand and grasped his shoulders firmly, drawing him close to her.
Their lips collided, all mango-rita and beer and sweat and sweetness. Freddie tensed for about half a second as his stomach seemed to fall to his feet, but he just as quickly relaxed and put his hands on her waist. Sam's hands slid until they were draped comfortably behind his back, but he didn't notice much. Their bodies and minds were completely lost in the kiss.
gonna marry you
After they had pulled back, there was a good few seconds where they were just staring into each other's eyes, sky-ocean blue colliding with chocolate-rock brown.
"You just watch, I'm gonna marry you Sam," Freddie said, his words jumbling together slightly to match his lopsided grin. Sam smirked, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I'd love to. Only in Vegas though." They both nodded, trying their best to look solemn and serious. They lasted about five seconds before hysterical laugher broke through the otherwise silent night.
Right off the deep end
Sam was leaned back on the side of Freddie's car, one hand on the side of his face and the other loosely intertwined between his fingers. He was kissing her deeply, and Sam felt warm all over. From the alcohol, yes, but also from the affection. She pulled herself closer to Freddie, feeling his lips stretch slightly into a tiny smile. After a few moments, she pulled back, close enough to touch noses.
"I love you, Freddie."
"I love you too, Sam."
It was music to both their ears, music they had previously thought they'd never hear again
Unforgettable
Their game had ended about an hour ago. Sam sat on the fire escape outside of Freddie's apartment, her legs laid over his as they watched the sunset.
"Why – how – do you remember all of that?"
Freddie closed his eyes and breathed in, remembering the smell of buttery popcorn and car exhaust and the slightly flowery perfume, probably Carly's, that Sam was wearing that night.
"You're unforgettable, Sam."
They didn't stop kissing until it was dark.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
