This is my first posted story. I have avoided any mention of character age or time reference, so imagine them however old you feel comfortable with. It will be sexually explicit. It will also include gender-bending, slash (sort of), femslash (sort of), and threeway sex. Flame away, IDC.

1a. A summer mid-afternoon, the Studio

"If I didn't know any better I'd say someone had been chewing on it," muttered Freddie as he studied the speaker wire, "but even Sam isn't that bad." The girls had been complaining about the sound system in the Studio for about a month, and he had finally managed to free up some time to take a look. He'd been at it almost two hours already. Reaching into his fanny pack repair kit, he snapped out his multi-tool pliers with what he considered to be a cool flick of his wrist. He then started to cut and trim the wire for a better connection. Unfortunately his Pear phone happened to vibrate and distract him at just the wrong moment. His hand slipped and the scissor blade he had been using sunk into the palm of his hand.

"Yeow! Da-!" He sucked air in through clenched teeth, dropping the tool. He then clenched the injured had in the other and waited for the blood to come. It wasn't a long wait. While he didn't think the cut was that deep, he knew there would be a terrible mess soon. While not officially a hemophiliac, he was a very free bleeder.

He rushed from the Studio to the nearest bathroom, Spencer's. The door was shut and there was a slight but decidedly awful odor in the air indicating Spencer was using it. Carly's bathroom was just a short jog at the opposite end of the hall, but it was Carly's bathroom. He couldn't go in there. Looking down, he saw the blood pooling in his hands. In just a second, it would begin to drip on the floor and stain the hall rug. Freddie remembered the rug being special to Carly's dad for some reason. Decision made, he bolted to the available bathroom.

Carly wasn't home, but there were rules for when a boy and a girl were friends (still just friends, damn that bacon speech). And in Freddie's mind, one rule was you stayed out of her room and out of her bathroom, but this was an emergency.

Carly's bathroom had two doors, one to the hall from which Freddie had entered, and one to her room which was closed at the moment. He got to the sink just as the first red droplet fell and hit the white porcelain edge. Using his elbow, he started the cold water flowing. His hands were quickly clean, and he saw he was right in that the cut really wasn't that bad. Freddie shook his head in disgust, annoyed with how easily he bled.

"Nub," he whispered at himself.

As the blood flow finally began to stop, he noticed music playing. It was coming from Carly's room. Freddie's brow furrowed. Carly was in Yakima for the night, helping her grandpa sort junk for a garage sale.

'She must not have turned her clock radio off before she left,' thought Freddie. He shrugged. Nothing he could do. While getting his injury taken care of might have justified use of her bathroom, he would not violate her bedroom. He'd mention the music to Spencer when he saw him.

After shutting the water off and drying his hands, Freddie took out some super glue from his fanny pack repair kit and proceeded to glue his wound shut. It was a trick his EMT cousin had showed him. If his mom saw a bandage and made him tell her how he was hurt, his techie days would be over. The glue trick made the cut almost unnoticeable. He'd just have to be careful around Mom for a day or two.

Satisfied with the first aid job, Freddie quickly cleaned up any mess he had made in and around the sink. He turned to leave and go back to the Studio to finish, but then he heard a harsh but soft gasp;

"Carly!"

It had come from Carly's room. It sounded like Sam, but he had never heard her voice in that particular desperate sort of tone. Was she crying out for help? Sam calling for help?! Sam knew Carly wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning. Could she be hurt so bad she didn't remember that? He needed to make sure Sam was OK. But it was Carly's room, no-man's-land, or at least no-Freddie's-land. And if it was Sam just talking with Carly on the phone or something, she'd probably hurt him for barging in. The best course of action was to go get Spencer, and he started to turn away.

"Freddie!" said in the same tone. Alarms sounded off all though his head. With their history, she must be in some trouble to call his name. And she had called his name, which could be seen as an invitation of sorts. But it wasn't her room to invite him into, it was Carly's. Regardless of how Sam treated him and his rules about girl's rooms, she was a friend, he had to check.

A low moan sounded as Freddie began to open the door inwards. He froze completely at the sight seen through cracked doorway. There lay Sam on Carly's bed. She was naked from the waist up. Her left hand was gripping some cloth and holding it near her face while her right was hidden by the sheets that covered her lower half. The motion of the sheets near where her privates would be pretty much made it obvious what was happening. Freddie had stopped breathing and started to black out from the shock and lack of oxygen.

He finally remembered to breathe and as the blackness receded from the edge of Freddie's vision and his knees steadied a bit, his brain started working again. He knew he should shut the door now, before she saw him and ended his life in the most painful way possible. But his body would not respond to his brain's commands. His body was responding, but in other ways that were not helpful to the situation.

Sam inhaled deeply from the cloth in her hand before letting it fall to the pillow beside her. In the back left corner of his brain Freddie thought, 'So that's where my red trimmed boxers went. Wait. What?!'

With her eyes shut tight, Sam grabbed a fistful of pillow case and pulled it to her face, she inhaled deeply.

"Carly!" she gasped. She dropped the sheet and began caressing her breast.

Freddie gulped and spots started to form in front of his eyes. Again he had to remind himself to breathe.

'Hold it together, Benson, or you are a dead man! If you're caught because you pass out, all your friendships are over and you will be beaten to death!'

'Then shut the damn door, Nub!' he yelled back at himself silently.

'I…I can't! I can't move. I'm frozen!' Well frozen was not the right word. He was feeling extremely warm in various places. The hot, tightness in his jeans and the beads of sweat starting to form under his nose showed how warm he was getting.

Freddie licked at his upper lip, tasting salt, eyes riveted to Sam's glistening and magnificent chest, wondering if it tasted similarly salty. In that back corner of his brain, Freddie now realized why Sam had taken to layering her clothes so much lately. She was trying to hide the impressive developments that had taken place. Still slender Carly was overly sensitive about chest size these days.

Sam's body quaked and her legs spasmed lightly. The movement pulled the bed sheets lower, almost exposing her fully. He imagined he could see the very right corner of that golden triangle of hair that must be there. Freddie leaned into the door jamb, unable to stop watching the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed. Sure he had "accidentally" disabled Netnanny on occasion and mis-clicked a link or ten his mother would ground him forever for. But the scene before him made all pornography meaningless and even silly.

"Freddie, Yes!" Sam moaned loudly and Freddie could not stop the low squeak from leaving his throat at that. Sam did not hear, but the unexpected sound surprised Freddie enough to realize that his hand was now rubbing at the painful hardness in his jeans.

Sam's motions were getting faster and more frantic. Freddie could feel she was about to finish and knew he needed to leave, but he just couldn't. He also knew he would be overcome with shame for spying on her later, but he was too turned on to care.

Sam moaned loudly and her legs shook again, pulling the sheets fully away and exposing her completely.

'Her?!' Freddie stopped rubbing his hardness in utter shock. Sam's hand was not rubbing the beautiful, gold-framed, swollen clitoris he had been imagining. Instead her fist was wrapped around a penis that was just as hard as his had been a second ago.

"Carly! Freddie!" Sam gasped and she began to climax in spurts of clear fluid over her stomach.

Freddie gulped hard. He could feel the sensation of lack of oxygen returning. He was going to pass out, and he would not be able to stop it this time. Steeling himself, he shut the door as quietly as he could and staggered to the Sftudio, where he fell face first into the nearest bean bag chair unconscious.

1b. Half an hour later, the Studio

As the blackness turned gray, Freddie could feel a soft, wetness press to his lips. He heard a moan and thought it sounded like himself. Then the left side of his face exploded with a sharp stinging pain. The yelp that followed was definitely his. The right side of his face also exploded with a bit less force. The gray clouding his eyes started to fade into a focused image of Sam leaning over him.

Spencer's voice rang out, "I've got the cold compress!"

"S'alright, he's awake! Compresses are for wimps anyway. Smacking up the face works much better." Sam called back over her shoulder.

She looked back at Freddie, "At least for Fredweird here. Stupid, nubbin. Why are you here? And what'd you do to yourself?"

"Hunh?" was all Freddie could manage. He felt groggy, like he'd overslept.

'Overslept?! Was it all just a dream? A vivid, crazy, erotic, very confusing dream?'

"He was fixing the sound system like you guys wanted him to. He's been up here all afternoon." Spencer said as he handed the compress to Freddie. An odd expression passed over Sam's face.

"Why were you out cold on the floor then?" asked Sam.

"Er, cut myself rewiring the woofer. I think."

Sam cocked her head to the side at the statement, "You think?"

Freddie looked at his hand. Sure enough, there was the sealed cut. The disappointment and relief (?!) that it probably had not been a dream confused him to the point that he felt another black out coming on.

"Yeah, see?" he turned the hand towards them.

"And that's why you passed out?" Spencer asked doubtfully.

"I guess."

Sam laughed mockingly, "Spencer, this is Fredweird are talking about. We're lucky he didn't poop himself too."

Freddie made a face at Sam for her dig, and started to get to his feet. As he rose, he licked his lips and discovered they were moist with a decided coconut flavor. His expression became even more confused. The only thing he'd had to eat today was plain oatmeal for breakfast. He'd forgotten about lunch. Carly sometimes wore coconut flavored lip gloss, but she wasn't here. He slowly looked back to Sam as his fingers rubbed at his lips. Her lips seemed shinier that usual. Had she kissed him while Spencer was getting the compress? Wait. She? Was she even a she?

Sam looked back to Freddie from talking softly with Spencer. She seemed to whiten as she saw Freddie staring at her lips and rubbing his own. Her face then reddened with anger.

"He looks fine to me, Spencer! I don't think he needs a hospital unless he can get a new spine there. I am not wasting any more time on this..this..waste," Sam turned and left quickly.

"Wow. That was harshy. Even for her," Spencer shook his head. "You OK?"

'No! I mean, Hell No!' thought Freddie, but then quietly said, "Yes. I'll be fine. I'll just finish the speaker and go lay down."

"OK, bud. Take it easy. Be more careful."

"Yeah, got it. Carefuller Freddie."

Mechanically, Freddie finished up the speaker, trying not to think about anything but finishing the job and getting out of that apartment as soon as possible. He entered the hall and looked towards Carly's bedroom. The bedroom hallway door was open when it had not been earlier. A shaky breath escaped. Maybe he had passed out from the cut? Maybe just the part with Sam in Carly's bed was a dream? So he was having gay dreams about Sam? Is that what you would call it?

His feet moved by themselves taking him closer to the Carly's door. He stopped just outside.

"Oh, wow." There on Carly's pillow were his boxers as Sam had left them. He really needed to get out of here now. He left the doorway and hit the stairs at a quick pace. At the foot he came face to face with Sam who was heading up.

She snarled, "Out of my way, nub! I forgot something!" and pushed him to the side.

Freddie ran the rest of the way out of the apartment, across the hall, and to his room. He locked the door and jumped onto his bed. He sat up, Indian style, with his face in his hands. Much as he didn't want to think about any of it, he needed to figure this out.

None of it had been a dream. Even the dreamy part where it felt like someone was kissing him hadn't been a dream. Sam had kissed him.

'But she has a penis! Does that make me gay?'

'Well, obviously not. You thought she was a girl when you meant to kiss her that one time. The one just now, while you were unconscious, you had no say.'

'K, I buy that.'

'But you have to admit, she was still complete and total hotness up to and maybe even past the point where…'

'What is she though? A girl or a boy?'

'She's your friend, mostly, who you were violating by spying on BTW.'

'Oh. Joy. Let's stir up all the crap why don't we?'

'Hey. You wanted to sort this out. So let's get it all out there.'

'Well, she violated me by kissing me while I was unconscious.'

'How about that, huh? And also, I mean from what you saw of when she was…you know…doing that, she was calling out your name.'

'And Carly's.'

'And Carly's! That is so hot!'

'What?! Shut…Up! No, it freaking well isn't!'

'Then what's going on in your pants again?'

"AHHHH! I hate this!" Freddie screamed into his pillow.

"Freddie, is that you?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Is everything OK?"

"Yes, Mom, I think I'm going to take a nap."

"OK, hun."

'Nothing like the sound of Mom's voice to kill anything going on the pants department.'

'What now? I had the excuse of passing out and grogginess to explain being odd earlier. Sam knows me too well to not notice something's up. I can't hide my feelings for anything and I suck at lying.'

'Ah, but you read her face too. She knows you know she kissed you while you were out. If it comes up just say that's the reason for the weirdness.'

'Lies and more lying? Didn't I just say I suck at lying?'

'What do you want to do? Go up to her and say, "Hey, Sam, question, sorry for spying on you while you were naked and getting yourself off by fantasizing about me and Carly, really hot BTW, but when did you grow a penis?" Yeah, that works.'

'Wait! Does Carly know?'

'Know what? That Sam is hot for her… and you… or that Sam has a dick?'

'The last part?"

'Maybe Carly has a dick too? Maybe the vagina is just an urban myth perpetrated by internet porn and Wikipedia?'

'And that thought signals the official end of my sanity.'

'Bottom line, you can't tell Sam you know about anything other than the stolen kiss or you die. Since Carly would tell Sam that you know whether Carly already did or not, you can't tell Carly anything about Sam or you die. You want to live, keep your pie hole shut and deal.'