Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.
"This is such a wasted Saturday," groaned Sam.
Freddie shrugged. "I guess it is. Where's Carly?"
"On a date with a nub."
"I called him a nub to his face, too, don't worry."
He grinned. "So why didn't you go crash Carly's date and hang out with her?"
"Figured I might as well waste a Saturday at your place. Where's the psycho?"
"You mean my mother? At my grandma's. Here's a funny story: my mom hired a babysitter, but she left the minute I told her some girl named Sam Puckett might come over. She said something about having nightmares for seven years."
"Eh. I've had a few run-ins with babysitters in my day."
They were sitting on Freddie's couch, staring at a blank TV. Weird get-togethers like this were more and more common for them. They didn't question it when they met up with each other alone. It was just easier for them to do this than not; kind of like a forgiveness for being so nasty to each other in public. Freddie wasn't necessarily the nerd in this setting, Sam was no longer the bully, they were just two kids who knew a lot more about each other than they let on. Including what each other's lips tasted like. But that was one subject they never discussed.
Which was strange, because these meetings started a few days after that incident.
"Want a Coke?"
Freddie grabbed a couple of drinks from the fridge and returned, sitting noticeably closer than before. Sam stiffened. 'Butterflies in her stomach' was a pretty light term. It felt like she had a colony of mutant moths in there. But it didn't feel all that terrible.
"...These are good Cokes..."
He grinned. "Just like all the other Cokes out there. Hot?"
"Huh?" she asked, staring at him.
"Are you hot? You're all red."
"No I'm not."
"I can see it."
"Shut up, Benson."
"Whatever." Freddie leaned back on the couch, thinking. Then he decided word games like that would be a lot more fun than sitting around doing nothing. "Kiss?"
"My mom left a whole bunch of Hershey's Kisses for you. She says she hopes you'll die of tooth decay. I'm not sure what that means, but I think she's trying to murder you. Want some?"
Inside, he was smirking. He loved the look on her face.
"No. They don't go with Coke."
"Oh, okay. You know what, they were probably expired anyways." He got up, grabbed the bag of chocolate, and squinted at it. "The print is way too small. I can't make out what the expiration date is."
She shifted. "Too bad."
"You really are red now. Blushing?"
Sam glared. "You did that on purpose, you nub!" She punched him, but not as hard as he deserved. Freddie cracked up.
"You should've seen yourself! And hey, I didn't tell you to take all that the wrong way!"
Oh, he was in for it.
More punches rained down on him while he made desperate grabs at her arms to stop her. Eventually he caught them, though not until his chest felt like it had been rammed with a sledgehammer. He tightened his grip on her and pulled her closer, breathing hard.
Sam looked as though she was a deer in headlights. Then she caught herself. "So you did. Congrats. Do you feel proud of yourself now?"
At any other moment he would've commented on how lame that comeback was. But right now he was having too many flashbacks to care. There had been only one other time that the two of them had been this close. "Sam...how many guys have you dated since that night?"
She didn't even need to ask what he was referring to. "One."
"Did you kiss him?"
Taken aback, she replied, "...No."
"I haven't kissed anyone else either."
"Yeah you have. Melanie," Sam said without thinking. This close to him, and she lost even the train tracks of thought.
"That was you."
She laughed dryly. "I can't believe you thought you were kissing me the whole time."
He gazed at her. "Let's do it again."
By now, she was used to the jokes he'd been playing on her all day. "Do what?"
Of course, this was the one time he wasn't teasing. It only shocked her more. "Huh?"
"I want to know what a third kiss feels like."
"The same as the first and second, you dummy."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm not an idiot."
"Well, okay then."
He backed off, and their moment was gone. Freddie acted perfectly at ease, but Sam wasn't so comfortable.
"You know what, maybe it does feel different."
Freddie grinned. "Give it a shot?"
This time there were no wait-a-minutes, no unsure glances, no commands to initiate it. They leaned in, and the minute their lips connected, it felt right.
"I heard fourth kisses are even better," said Sam breathlessly once they separated.
She grabbed the sides of Freddie's face and kissed him hard. Freddie wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned back, letting her crawl on top of him. They came up for air and just laid there, catching their breath.
"You know what I never got? Why'd we even kiss the first time if we didn't care about first kisses? We couldn't even tell anybody we did kiss--we would still get made fun of."
Sam smirked. "You just wanted to kiss me that bad. It didn't even matter to you."
"You're the one that started the conversation!"
She didn't respond, but her smirk got wider.
"You tricked me."
He laughed. "No way. You outsmarted me."
"Oh, shut up. You liked it."
"Yeah. Too bad no one'll ever know about it. Didn't we promise not to tell anyone?"
"Not if you date me."
"Not if I date you," he agreed, tugging her down again. "But until then, we're still officially kissless."