milliways_bar | (no subject)

There was mutual sinking to the ground in soggy pile of hormones.

And lots of gasping.

Sam broke off long enough to look at Danny, dazed, and lick her lips. "W-what was--why'd you do that?"

"I...I..." he looked at her, eyes wide, still breathing heavily, and babbled out, "I don't know. I just--I--"

And he moved in to kiss her again, and again...

Somehow she ended up on top of him.

"Danny," she managed to say, raking her nails none-too-gently over his scalp.

"Sam, I...is this okay?" he asked her, still looking confused.

Most likely. Most probably.

"Yeah," Sam murmured, hovering above him, and gently touched his bottom lip with her fingertip, then her own. They were both kiss-swollen.

Her brain was beginning to come around again. And it was mainly saying, "I think Danny just kissed me" and, "He did it on purpose" and "Wow that was really hot".

"Just...I'm kind of confused," he admitted. "Because...because I don't know how I--"

He drew in a deep breath. "I'm not good with feelings stuff, y'know? At figuring it out..."

"Danny," Sam said, quietly, a bit sadly, and touched his face -- more tenderly than she would have ordinarily. "What do you want?"

"I don't...know," he said.

His libido was saying, "More kissing! Boobs! Sex! Seeex!" but he ignored it.

He started rambling, "...This isn't going to...what if this messes up our friendship or something? And--and do you like me like me, or am I just...I don't know, safe, or something? And what if Tucker feels like a third wheel? And what if one of my enemies realizes, y'know, how I feel about you, and goes after you like they always do in the comics? What if I die? What if you die? And it's, like, my fault, because that's something I've worried about more than once, with you and Tucker--"

"Danny," Sam said. "Shut up."

She covered his mouth gently but firmly with one hand.

"It's not going to mess up our friendship, because both you and I care way too much about each other to do something that would hurt either of us. I do like you like you." Blush. "Tucker won't feel like a third wheel; Tucker's heard me ranting about this for months and has taken time to precaution himself, and besides, we'd make an effort. Our lives are not a comic book."

She took a deep breath. "I'm not going to die. You are definitely not going to die, because I'm not going to let you. Okay?"

The confusion seemed to be giving way to admiration as he looked at her.

"...Wait, you ranted about this for months?" he suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam's cheeks flushed. Would her face ever return to normal? Probably not.

"Yes, Danny. Months. Months, have I liked you. Very stupid, you are." She tapped his forehead gently with a finger.

"You've liked me for months," he verified, as if he didn't believe that it was possible for a girl to like him more than a week or two (such was the case with Valerie...and Paulina...and...wait, no, those were the only two girls ever to act like they liked him).

"Yes," Sam verified for him, nodding.

Now for the Dumbest Question of the Year:

"...How come you never told me?"

Sam looked at him.

Then at the ground.

"Who'd like me?" Her voice sounded very small, and very timid. Very unlike Sam. She didn't look at him.

"Sam, you're...are you crazy? I mean...I sort of almost thought about it once or twice, but I just--I was kind of scared that you wouldn't like me back and that it would mess everything up, so I just tried not to think about it. I think that's why I'm so confused right now--because I sort just...tried not to think about it," he explained, pushing her hair out of her face.

"But that was all me, because...I guess I was kind of scared. That wasn't because of you.

Just like I told you those times before you're smart and funny and fun and a good friend--a great friend. You and Tucker do things that most best friends wouldn't do--that they'd be afraid to do. You go above and beyond the call of best-friendly duty.

And you're just...you're really pretty, Sam. And--and different. You're an individual and stuff and I like that about you--that you just...like what you like even if no one else likes it. I mean, even with the goth thing, you don't even do what most goths do--you're actually cheerful sometimes, for one thing, and that's makes you different from them, too."

She looked at him, dead quiet.

And then -- "When you -- drunk. Yeah." She looked down, then back up, and pressed her palm to his chest gently, feeling his steady heartbeat coming through.

"That," she told him, "is what makes you a hero. Okay? Not the powers or anything like that." She closed her eyes, then opened them. Finding her voice was a little hard. "You're... like -- Danny, you're one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Ever."

Danny shook his head. "Oh come one, no I'm noot," he protested.

"Yes," she said, and kissed him again to prove it. "You are."

That sort of made his heart go all funny and make it hard for him to breathe.

When she broke away, he said, "Yeah, well, uh, ditto. Seriously. Tuck, too, but if I didn't have you..."

"You'd've jumped off a building by now," Sam said, and, since her head was sort of getting tired, rested it on his collarbones and chest gently. "A really, really tall building."

Her head was all warm and stuff. He have rather had her hand there, though.

"So, um, are we dating now? Or something?"

She picked her head up to look at him. "I don't know. Are we?"

"You do realize you're asking that of the king of social ineptitude, right?" Danny asked, raising his eyebrows.