Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.
Freddie sat on a stool at one of the high top tables near the bar. Carly and Sam had dragged him to this new club for some reason he couldn't fathom. This was their new thing. They loved to go out dancing, Carly said it was a 'stress relief', kind of like how he played video games. Which he was cool with, he just didn't want to go and even though he thought he had made it clear in abundance that this was not his kind of scene, his pleas fell on deaf ears tonight. They made him get all dressed up and escort them here. And for the last hour or so, he had just sat there, staring at the stamp on the back of his hand letting everyone know he was a minor and that they shouldn't serve him alcohol while Carly and Sam danced to their hearts contents.
He lifted his eyes and let them coast along the dance floor, looking for a certain blonde and brunette through the swarm of people. Freddie found Carly near the right, towards the front door, rocking away whatever stress and frustration she might have to the music. That caused a light grin to touch his lips at her release of character, submitting to song and feeling weaving through the area. His eyes began to probe again and in no time found Sam right in the middle of everything; taking in everything as she danced with some guy he had never seen before. Her eyes were closed, her head titled back in the slightest while this guy stood behind her, hands roving down her sides and causing Freddie to bite back on the bile in his throat. He swallowed harshly, looking back down at his hand and the stamp with false interest.
When the song ended, he didn't even notice he was so lost in his thoughts, gaze boring down at his hand until his sight started to blur a bit. He really didn't want to be here in the first place but now there was this overwhelming feeling to get out, escape this unfamiliar place. The notion never came to fruition though, the planning interrupted when Sam came up to his side and bent over to catch his gaze.
"Stop being a wallflower, dork."
Freddie shook his head, blinking a few times to get rid of the dryness surrounding his eyes before looking up at the outwardly exhausted blonde. His voice held an indifference he was never great at feigning.
"Nah, I'm good."
She stood there and watched him to the point that he was growing pretty uncomfortable when she didn't say anything. Freddie leaned into the table, resting his elbows against the edge and let his eyes wander back out to find Carly, to find anything of interest to keep locked on. He flinched noticeably when she grabbed his arm all of a sudden even though the contact was light by Sam's standards.
"Come on, let's dance."
"I don't dance."
She fixed him with an unreadable look. "It wasn't a request, Freddie."
Sam left no room for debate in her words and with a inwardly defeated sigh, he got to his feet and followed the girl out onto the dance floor. He wasn't sure what to expect at this point. The notion that this was a ploy to somehow embarrass him came to mind but something about her mood and look didn't match up with the theory. His steps were sluggish and she had to drag him into the mass of men and women dancing. Freddie looked around, scrunching one side of his face up at how loud the music was down here. His gaze returned to Sam when she turned him back around to face her.
She slid onto him like a snug fit pair of jeans. Bodies in full contact, petite hands touching skin; roaming trails down his arms and then back up again until they became interlocked behind his neck. Her hips were swaying out of rhythm to the noise in the background when Freddie's befuddled hands came to rest on either side. She was moving to the music in her head and expected him to follow in fashion without question. Devoid of thought, he took to the influence and rocked back and forth. Unruly, ferocious curls of blonde hair are draped over her face, hiding her eyes so he isn't sure if she has them closed or if she's looking at the littered dance floor beneath them but what he did know was that it was impossible for him to tear his gaze from the top of her head. So many conflicting questions and emotions battling in the space between his head and heart.
Certain lights dim to dark, and what they are left with is a pale blue washing over them and the whole club trying to set a tone. He could feel her fingers pushing into the flesh of his neck, pulling him down in the slightest, conveying to him that he needed to come closer; trying to shape their bodies together with some sort hidden urgency that he just couldn't grasp. The true meaning of her movements through the motion and the beat. And she was just as beautiful as her movements, so perfect and sultry. Alarmingly intense and aggressive without having to say a word to him. Freddie couldn't say for sure if it was her touch or the other dozen bodies around them causing the heat flushing his cheeks red.
He put his brain on the backburner, going into auto-pilot so he could fully enjoy the moment, however fervent and brief it might be. In doing this, everything else fell away except him and her, holding one and other while swaying in the dark as if stuck in a romantic cliché. This moment awakening every questionable and deeply buried feeling he ever had for the blonde beauty leaning into him. It was an overload to the senses, trying to deny the sentiments tightening his chest; causing the burn in his blood. What was transpiring in this nameless hot spot downtown went against everything he had been conditioned for during his teen years. It went against everything that made sense and with that logic thrown out the window, he was very lost.
"Not a half bad dancer, Benson."
Her words came with rasp; whispered heavy, merging into the music to the point that he's not even sure she really said anything. Not until she looked up and met his gaze, shaking her head faintly to get the hair out of her eyes. Those brilliantly blue eyes, those seemingly forever eyes that she used to stare a hole right through him. Freddie focused, not being overtaken by the distraction of her thumbs rubbing tiny circles on the back of his neck or how they seemed to grow closer every second they stood there dancing to the point that if the song didn't end, he feared they would become one person. He got through all of that and a lopsided grin formed, though it did have hints of uneasiness to it.
"No, I am. Just easy when you lead."
Sam grinned back, that signature grin of confidence and allure he had only seen her ever pull off. They continued to move with one and other, alone in a crowd. She's still staring at him, searching for something he's positive isn't there. She's not discouraged though, her gaze doesn't falter and after so much time, Freddie had to look away, look down to keep the frenzy of butterflies in his stomach from rioting. He could hear her laugh warmly before resting her head, pressing one side of her face against his chest. There was something so painfully right about what was happening, it didn't make sense. It would probably never, ever make sense to him.
And then the song came to an end and their time was left fleeting, he could feel her pulling away in every significance. She lifted her head and looked at him, still searching and he tried to let her in through open eyes. She only smiled gently, one hand dropping away from it's connection around his neck while the other trailed up into his brunette locks. Sam mused his hair, letting it run through her fingers before pulling away completely; his hands dropping almost awkwardly away from her hips to his side. She didn't say anything when she walked away with that womanly swagger he couldn't quite remember when she developed but always implored now. He watched her move back to the table where Carly now sat. He just stood there in that sea of people, sinking like a stone.
That was the moment he made the mistake of falling in love with Sam Puckett.
A/N: I sat down to write some of 'We're got all the time' but instead this came out so uh, short oneshot!