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Danny blinked warily in the mid morning light, Sam’s blackout curtains had fallen ajar after his arrival and he hadn’t the thought that the light would slap him at some point post coit-
Whoa. Wait a second.
He startled, sitting up to take in the alluring form of his girlfriend.
Curled on her side, back to him, a sheet barely covering her stomach and lower half, which he had had the pleasure of revealing last night one pair of pyjama pants and panties at a time.
Sam’s hair cascaded in thick waves down her back, mussed with the after effects of sleep and her black satin pillow cases. She had her arm under her face, hair sticking to the side of her glossy lips, face scrunched in irritation of the light shifting onto her face.
Danny couldn’t keep the cheesy grin off his face if he tried. He snuggled back against her, shifting the sheet back over the both of them, nuzzling into her shoulder and gently placing his lips against her skin in a mock kiss.
She huffed indignantly and turned over to give him her wrath, only pausing at the big goofy smile he sported at her.
He props his face onto his palm and watches amorously as she turns over to face him, stretching with the intention for the sheets to slip a little and give him a small peek.
She watches as he devours the small bit of skin hungrily. Her lips smile teasingly and suddenly Sam is nuzzling her nose into his shoulder as she gets comfortable, laid against him and making him flush all over again.
He swears his face must match the carelessly tossed red sweater he threw near her dresser last night in his haste to get naked.
Naked. Naked. Naked.
They’re naked because they-
“Good morning” Sam smiles easily as Danny combats the idea of skin on skin and how long they’ve waited for this moment and how fighting ghosts can no longer be described as intense because this this this this .
This was intense. What they did was intense.
He must look dumbstruck or whatever other word means bamboozled, shocked, awestruck because Sam perks up worriedly as she pulls the sheet over her breasts which honestly has to be a crime somewhere, somehow and Danny needs to get in touch with the proper authorities to act on this offence immediately.
“Are you ok?” she questions, her bottom lip works frantically under her teeth as she tries to fix what she thinks might be an issue, but Danny’s pretty sure brain matter is oozing out of his frontal lobe and you know . NO THOUGHTS. Head empty. Girlfriend naked in your bed.
He sits stupidly silent for a good minute as he watches emotions flit across her face. Her usual mask of indifference melts away and reveals the insecurities of ‘was this a mistake?’ and- SHIT.
“Sam last night, we-”
“Yeah.” She responds, clutching the sheets for security and frowning at him, “we did.”
He had come over to get his arm looked at after a nasty fall thanks to Skulker. She was up in her bed, eating chips and dip and flipping through those stupid fashion magazines she claimed she thought were stupid.
He had walked in, locked eyes with her, watched as she stared him down under candlelight and the rest was messy, bandagey history.
“Are you ok?” She repeats and he reads the subtext loud and clear. ‘Are you ok?’ “Are we ok?”
Danny reaches forward to grab at her and he’s surprised when she lets him, but her guard must be down like crazy. She doesn’t fight. She’s almost docile as she watches him watch her.
“What we did was pretty big.” Her voice is quiet, soft.
Not his Sam. “A big step, maybe we weren’t ready-”
“You were so perfect last night” he responds dumbly.
She bites back a smile and her intensity lessens as she looks at him. “Yeah?”
“I-” he feels his cheeks heat, “I couldn’t stop looking at you. Sorry. You were just so beautiful. Sorry if it wasn’t-”
“It was good” she smiles at him, her face is also lit up like she’s been standing too close to red coloured glass and he grins sheepishly.
“Just good?” he questions. He’s gonna fiddle with the bed sheets in a minute. He’d like to be fiddling with something else he thinks unabashedly as she quirks a smile at him.
“Good” she repeats.
She flounders for just a second. Sexy isn’t something she’s used to. Not something she’s had to bring up before last night, before this morning . Moving forward in her bed sheets adorned with cobwebs and seeping black lace on every corner, she inches towards him for the first time since last night and kisses him with something too close to gentle.
Blueberries.
Is her gloss supposed to taste like this?
He curls his hand in her hair and brings her closer, shades her form from everything and none and gets a bit angry thinking of all the eyes that have had the pleasure of seeing the small bits of skin she allows and he needs to reel himself in before his eyes glow .
He’s careful with her, almost always. Last night he was anything but, boyish curiosity and desperation to see bits and pieces and the desire to touch consuming him like an electric surge. He hopes he wasn’t rough, but the way she smiles at him makes him believe he may have treated her too unlike a china doll.
She leans away and he chases and she giggles as he follows her. He curls his fingers into her hair strands, pulls her against him so he can feel all the bumps, the crevices. The smoothness of skin to skin he may need to go to AA to get over. She doesn’t fight, she moves in so the most intimate parts touch over the sheet.
The sheet. The cover.
He throws it away with no second thought. Grasps at her like a man on a mission. He clings to her and then pushes away so he can get even closer if that's possible.
Their mouths meet over and over and he swears he might have transferred the blueberry gloss straight to his lips and he wonders if she wants to lick it off and he goes in again to kiss and bite at her.
She’s moaning, her hands have always been small and dainty but he’s never felt them so strong and solid against his back. Her moans are too much. He can feel it.
She pulls away and he groans with upset. Her back hits the bed and she gives him the most “come hither” eyes he’s ever seen in his seventeen years of life and OH she means right now if that next look is anything to go by.
Her tresses spread like galaxy and her skin contrasts the dark under sheet and she watches as he shifts over her, careful not to hurt her as he lowers himself and plants another delicate kiss against her forehead.
Her eyes shut to enjoy the feeling and he moves to put her hands on his shoulders. She reopens them to stare into his eyes before she smiles again, just like before.
“You know what’s the best thing about good Danny?”
He’s entranced as he watches her lips move, and then her chest and he knows he’s staring but he can’t help it and he has to and then he looks back up to her amusement.
“What?” His lips are dry as she wraps her arms from his shoulders to just around his neck and brings him to her.
“There’s room to practise” she can’t look that sultry and desirable. Not Sam. She can’t.
He may whimper.
He's not sure, but if anyone asks he didn’t.
“I love practise” he responds and then he leans in again and they’re kissing once more.
Kissing is great.
Kissing knowing what comes next has Danny on another level. His kisses have upgraded.
He fondles her hair and then he pushes the pillows out of the way and they slap the floor. He caresses her thighs and she makes this breathy sound that she didn’t make last night and he thinks he goes ballistic. She moans pretty and then dark and then her hands are meeting his back.
He feels her nails scratch his back lightly and he calls her name and begs things he can’t confirm nor deny. Promises are made he can’t make up his mind on whether he’ll follow through with, but then he thinks he might pass out if her tongue keeps touching him so it’s all good and done either way.
There’s a sound.
Shuffling. Door.
SHIT. DOOR!
Danny jerks up and roasts himself for even claiming a “did you lock the door” thought halfway before it's already opened. Sam shrieks underneath him and he’s torn between shying away his obviously nude body and desperately covering Sam with whatever possible limb he can.
The sheets and pillows mock him from the floor.
His eyes spring up like a wild animal and Mr. Manson stares right into his soul.
“SAM?!?!”
Her father has never been intimidating to Danny.
A man who probably pays other men to take care of his problems, but Danny might be sweating with the force of a rabbit in the maw of the Big Bad Wolf with the way the man’s eyes have darkened, laser-like in their assault.
“YOU!”
Danny throws a hand up and shouts out “MR MANSON WAIT LET ME GET DRESSED SO I CAN-”
And that’s the wrong thing for Danny to say to a man who looks like he’s about to pick up the whole Fenton RV one handed and use it to beat Danny to death.
“SON OF A BITCH!” Mr. Manson shouts angrily and Sam is on the floor covering herself with a makeshift sheet dress as Danny scrambles to use a pillow to hide his favourite piece by far.
“Sir please hear me out” he’s desperate and shaking and he'd rather fight a million ghosts hand to hand in human form then take on his girlfriend’s super rich dad who ALSO happened to hate his half living guts “WE WEREN’T DOING WHAT YOU THINK! Ok that’s a lie, we already did what you think WITH RESPECT!”
He knows he's grasping as Mr. Manson takes on the form of a wild bull.
“FENTON!” He’s got fists and they’re being thrown as he tries to tackle Danny to the floor. Danny darts away as Sam shouts for her father to stop. Uh-oh she’s angry too. Great.
“I respected your daughter. I still do. She’s my everything.” He has no time to see Sam staring at him adoringly for a moment as her father pounces on him again and he slides out of the way.
“HOLD STILL!”
“Sir Sam and I are at that age where-”
“I’LL KILL YOU!”
Danny dashes off again as Sam’s father chases. Her mother rushes the door. Is someone out there just mocking him at this point?
“Sam?” she inquires and then shrieks as Danny jumps her, pillow forgotten, mandhood intact, dignity laying somewhere with the bed covers.
Mrs. Manson screams in horror, ironically enough, clutches her pearls and ducks like she’s a comedy act on tour. Her husbands’ fury increases and he’s running Danny down, but Danny turns the hallway and makes it past Sam’s grandmother with a terrified shout of “Sorry Edith!” and keeps going.
Sam lays on the floor in stunned silence as her mother finally sits up to stare right at her.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see what I just saw.” Sam nods, her face scrunched in annoyance at the state of her room, the affairs going on and the loss of touch with her boyfriend after one of the biggest nights of their lives.
“I’m also going to pretend I don’t know what you two did here” she sniffs, she’s obviously angry, but before she can chastise, her mother-in-law wheels up to the door with a big grin.
“Congratulations Bubbeleh”
“Grandma now is not the time to celebrate us having-”
Grandma Manson smirks, waving Sam’s response away. “That’s not what I was referring to” she winks at Sam who shrinks with disgust.
“DAMMIT DANNY PUT SOME PANTS ON!”
She knows she looks ridiculous shouting it out the window as her mother faints dramatically behind her and her grandma shrieks with laughter, but she can’t help but see the underlining funny in the situation.
That is until she sees her father pull out the Ghost Bazooka out of nowhere, aiming it right at her half-ghost boyfriend.
“Oh my God dad what are you doing?! STOP IT!!”
“CLOSE YOUR EYES SAMMY DADDY’S GONNA MAKE A LITTLE MESS!”
“MR MANSON WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE THAT?! NO WAIT PLEASE YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTA- YEOWWWWWWW!!! I’M TELLING YOU I RESPECT SAM!! I ONLY TOUCHED HER A LITTLE BIT!! SHE WAS BEGGING ME TO- OH MY GOD WHO THE HELL GAVE YOU THAT?!?!?!??!?!”
“Danny?! DANNY?!?”
Sam slumped as the two vanished.
“You and I are going to have a talk now too young lady” her mother fumed behind her, the creases in her dress are like a curtain of bad decisions and Sam sighs with defeat.
“Sure. Can I put some clothes on first?”