you're not invited to the other side of sanity
notes: holy shit, i haven't written anything for these two in like a year. but they got together - about damn time, too - and so i decided to write a little piece to celebrate. i'm not sure i'm exactly ~in love~ with how i'm thinking their relationship is going to be on the show, but wtfever. that isn't very relevant tbh. so, this is basically just some sorta non-linearish fluffy shet because i can't write anything with actual substance anymore. plus, i can't really write samfreddie anymore, either. so excuse my fail.
(OH AND REVIEW. /especially/ if you favorite. i'm not going to hunt you down & rip your head off or anything, but really, people.)
she stirs her drink with a knife.
they're sitting at a booth in a diner clear on the other side of town. it's summer and the air is warm, suffocating even. it's not comfortable. not really. sam has her legs tucked under her and she's gazing out the window, absentmindedly stirring her iced tea with a knife. freddie wants to say something about it, doesn't.
she orders chicken off the kids menu. he laughs. she hits him.
he's seen better love stories.
it's even worse outside, and they're just standing there on the pavement, squinting in the afternoon sunshine.
he takes a deep breath, asks if she wants to hold his hand.
sam whirls to look at him, squinting. he's not sure if it's from the sun or because she didn't hear him or what, but then she's laughing and smacking his hand away, heading off down the sidewalk even farther away from home.
"nice try, fredwad."
"where are we going?" he asks suspiciously.
sam turns around, smiling that smile that says i know something you don't. "trust me, dude."
"you called me dude."
"i'm your boyfriend and you called me dude."
"so?" she repeats, blinks.
he sighs, decides continuing on with this bantering would be pretty fucking pointless. "nevermind."
"that's what i've liked about you lately, fredward. you know when to keep your mouth shut."
they take the long way home, because that's just how sam rolls.
he doesn't mind.
they don't do much in the summer.
they walk. they eat. they watch girly cow. they help spencer with his projects. he tries to hold her hand. she smacks his hand away. she smokes cigarettes. he tells her not to. she tells him that he should just shut the fuck up because she can make her own decisions, thank you very much.
and it all starts over again in the morning.
"you're slooow," she calls behind her, motioning for him to hurry up.
"well, maybe you're just fast," he retaliates, but rolls his eyes.
sam laughs. "i don't think so."
fighting. it's what they're good at -
"- and it doesn't stop just 'cause we're dating," sam snorts.
freddie's pretty sure he wouldn't have it any other way.
one night they sit on folding chairs on the fire escape with a bowl of popcorn between them (he still isn't sure why, really) except most of it winds up being chucked over the edge by sam.
freddie stares. "...why?"
she just laughs and tosses a piece of popcorn at him. he barely manages to catch it between his teeth.
a minute or so later he holds out his hand, winces, hopes this time she won't leave him with a bruise.
sam stares at it for a long time. she doesn't shift in her chair. she doesn't look at him. she just stares at his hand before dumping some more popcorn in it.
he sighs and stares at the starry sky.
the first time they fuck, it's every bit as horribly awkward as he imagined. not that he actually imagined it or anything, but, err-
"not bad for your first time, fredalupe," sam says, grinning.
freddie scoffs. "what makes you think it was my first time?"
that kills her. she laughs and laughs and laughs until she's bent over, clutching his sheets to her chest and gasping.
"you're pretty funny, kid," she manages between giggles, "you know that?"
they're not complicated. not really.
because sam keeps being sam and freddie keeps being freddie and they just keep being them, and honestly, it's so much easier than they imagined it'd be. it's just them, no more, no less.
at the same time, though, they're hopelessly complicated.
because sam is sam and freddie is freddie and they're not supposed to work, and honestly, he's still not sure if they even do. she's her and he's him and they don't mesh.
that's the worst part, really.
(but when she finally lets him hold her hand on a rainy afternoon under the comfort of one of the umbrellas in front of the smoothie shop, he thinks just that maybe, just maybe -
- they can be simple.)