ingoodsentences | (santa honey) there's one thing i really do need (Reply)

Title: (santa honey) there's one thing i really do need
Author: thegraduate09
Fandom: iCarly
Pairing: Sam/Carly
Rating: T-ish
Summary: She didn't expect such cliche lines. Well, she didn't expect any lines at all, but still.
Author's Note: This... this has been screwing with my head for a week. I am so glad it's done. Majority of the story takes place on Christmas Eve.

This is how it starts:

"My hands are cold." (Sam says.)

"Let me warm them up." (Carly answers.)

∞

Pure, white snow is a rarity in Seattle. So often it's combined with rain to leave behind a dull, grey slush, no fun at all, instead.

But this time they're staring out the window, Sam's fingers inexplicably tangled in Carly's shirt right at her hip. She counts it as self-control, on account of not just sliding her hand into Carly's pocket. Carly squeals when she realizes it's snowing. Distracted, Sam only protests a little at being dragged to the park.

Usually it's not so bad, the want, but Sam can't help it. There's mistletoe everywhere, making her think, and the girl just looks so adorable all bundled up, hat, scarf and mittens, all matching her always rosy cheeks.

∞

This is what sticks:

Sam will never forget what it's like to lick the snow off of Carly's skin.

∞

There's a few inches on the ground when they reach the park, and it's pretty much empty except for the two of them. Carly climbs right onto one of the swings, hardly even has to ask before Sam's curling her fingers around her waist and giving her a push.

The swings have always been Carly's favorite. (Carly's always been Sam's favorite.)

∞

Sam wakes up Christmas Eve with Carly pressed tightly into her side, her mouth open against Sam's throat in her sleep.

Sam wakes up Christmas morning with Carly fast asleep between her legs, head on her chest, fingers tangled with Sam's, anchoring her down.

∞

She had a goal that morning, an "if" until she was made aware Carly was fully serious about wearing one of those cliche Santa Claus dresses, and it flared into full fledged life. ('Cuz she really feels like she's losing her mind and her footing.)

But she's easily distracted, and her bravado has completely deserted her now.

∞

They get home and layers are being shed in Carly's bedroom, it's almost synchronized, the way Sam gets tangled up trying to pull off three shirts at the same time so Carly has to yank them off.

(not exactly the type of shirt-ripping off she was hoping for, but she's whipped and she'll take it.)

The slide of Carly's fingers up her sides makes Sam hold her breath - and bless the fact that she's more than a little bit a masochist, or at least that she gets off on denial - until her shirts hit the floor.

She turns before Carly's hands drop.

There are snow flakes in her dark hair, dropping to her skin as they began to melt, turning so slowly to water it makes Sam wonder abstractly why she feels so hot.

"Sam?"

Oh. She's staring. She blinks, considers apologizing for being so hopelessly gay, but how do you do that?

Carly chuckles, and Sam realizes she still hasn't lowered her hands. Also that she may have said that out loud.

"You know, if you want me, all you have to do is say so." Carly suggests, unbelievably smiling.

Sam licks her lips, "Oh, do I ever."

∞