Admittedly this chapter is a little rough. I pieced together some older fragments, added some new stuff and even threw in a brief Creddie one shot I wrote as a request.

That being said, this is the last chapter of Seddie/Creddie shipping. The story will continue but I'm going to focus more on the 'Screddie' dynamic. There will obviously be a high degree of AU/OOC as we all know that there is no way to make 3-way between Carly, Sam and Freddie remotely close to cannon (sadly).

-Gemma

iNTERLUDE

He stood there silently, awaiting a response as his brain processed what he thought he just heard. Sam was a virgin…

NO. He told himself. She couldn't be. NO fucking way Samantha Puckett had kept her virtue well past her 20th birthday. Especially with a body like that.

His mind raced as he tried to remember when it happened or who it had been with. But the only sordid tales he could remember happened to Carly not Sam. There had to be something he was forgetting. She'd dated a ton of guys but Freddie couldn't recall any of them sticking around very long.

His head was pounding and all this thinking was beginning to give him a migraine. What he wouldn't give for water and some Aleve right now.

But the unanswered question still hung over them.

"Sam, was last night really your first time?" Or are you fucking with me?

Still commando, she was tugging a pair of pants over her hips. Hair hung down covering her face hiding any chance of reading her expression.

A few seconds went by – but in Freddie's anxious state it felt like an hour.

"Happy Birthday," she finally said holding her arms diagonally and shaking her hands like a Broadway performer.

"Sam," he prodded, knees shaking as an uncomfortable cramp-ish knot began to form in his stomach. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd make a big deal out of it." She pulled up her fly and tossed back her hair before glancing his way. Upper lip went one way and lower lip the other as she frowned. "You don't look too good."

It was almost as though her words jinxed him. Freddie clapped a hand across his mouth as he made a wild dash to the bathroom. It was already too late for the toilet when he got through the door.

Letting it out in a barking cough, Freddie Benson puked his guts into the tiny pedestal sink.

In the distance Sam screamed for Carly to, "Get the hell up here right now."

But there were bigger problems than that. The tiny mesh over the sink's drain quickly clogged with the viscous contents of his stomach. Unlike a toilet there was no way to flush it down and he knew if he dared to turn on the faucet to dilute the thick liquid – the sink might overflow.

After a very brief intermission, Freddie was able to get the seat up so Act II could take its proper place in the white bowl.

That's how Carly found him. On his knees in his birthday suit throwing up in the most cliché fashion the morning, er, early evening after his surprise party. Then in came Spencer holding out his phone as he filmed the scene.

Freddie rested his head in the crook of his elbow as he flushed away the vomit. Carly held out a roll of paper towels as Spencer's voice narrated a documentary…

"Let's look in the sink. Oh – What's this? I think I see some birthday cake in there…"

"Spencer! Stop filming!" Carly's voice created its own ear-shattering pitch. "SAM! Put that down!"

Freddie grabbed at the corner of a paper towel. He pulled in attempt to rip off a sheet but all he got was a tiny corner – Damn those perforations.

Carly was yelling at Sam. "I spent the whole day cleaning the entire apartment by myself! All you had to do was make sure he was awake and dressed. That's ALL you had to do. And you did a half-assed job! LITERALLY!"

"Here's our guest of honor…Freddie Benson."

Freddie could feel Spencer looming over him.

"SPENCER! Will you stop already!" Carly spun the roll until at least a half dozen sheets cascaded toward the floor. Tearing the whole section off she placed it in Freddie's outstretched hand.

"SAM!" Carly yelled again. "Go get Freddie some clothes."

Freddie bunched up the towels and wiped his face and nose.

"In your own words: Tell us how you're feeling today."

Freddie gave Spencer the stink eye.

"SPENCER! Put the fucking phone away and do something about the sink!" Carly ordered, as she handed Freddie a damp washcloth.

Freddie spit a few times in to the toilet before flushing it again. Then he did his best to clean himself up – well, at least his face.

"Your mom is picking us up in like, ten minutes," Carly told him as she swapped out the used washcloth for a clean one.

"What?" Freddie moaned. How could that be?

"She wants to stop for dinner on the ride back to school."

"Dinner?" The thought of food made Freddie's stomach curdle.

"Where is Sam?" Carly muttered angrily exiting the bathroom, leaving Freddie alone with Spencer.

"Look at you," Spencer patted him on the back. "All grown up."

Freddie lowered his head again. He couldn't believe it was already time to go back to school. He wanted to stay another night – talk with Sam – help Carly with what he was sure had to be a fucking mess downstairs. No, he couldn't leave right now.

Carly clomped back into the room. "Here're boxers, jeans and a hoodie," she dropped the items on the floor beside him. "Mouthwash and a comb. I packed up your deodorant already, so here's Spencer's extra one."

"Thanks," Freddie muttered reaching for his boxers.

"Oh, and your mom is here."

"Great." She was the last person Freddie wanted to see right now.

"Spencer, can you go downstairs? I left Sam alone with Mrs. Benson and…"

"On it!" Spencer saluted his sister and took off down the stairs.

Freddie waited until Spencer left before getting up from the floor. Now that he was sober, he was a little hesitant to let Carly see him naked but that quickly passed as she was too preoccupied with the sink to even glance his way.

"Unfucking-believable," she cursed. "Why did you pick now to start puking?" she asked him.

"It wasn't a conscious decision," Freddie grumbled fighting to get his pants on – they were incredibly tight. So much so, that he couldn't pull them up much further than his knees. "What the hell?" he angrily kicked them off and looked inside at the tag. A big number 3 stared back at him. But that was it – just a three. It slowly clicked that these were girl jeans.

"Are these yours?" he asked Carly.

"Are what mine?" she looked over her shoulder at the denim. "Eww, no."

"Are they Sam's?"

"Will you just get dressed!" Carly screamed at him.

"I can't!" Freddie threw the pants against the tile floor. "They don't fucking fit!"

With a humph, Carly spun around with narrowed eyes and a snarl on her lips.

"They're girl jeans," he explained kicking them across the room. "Where are my clothes?"

At that point they both screamed, "SAAAAAAAAAAAAM!"

But naturally, she didn't respond.

"Do I have to do everything!" Carly commented incredulously as the soles of her shoes pounded down the stairs.

Freddie stood there in his boxers and hoodie, fingers splayed across his face as he took a minute to catch his breath. In this whirlwind of weekend he'd forgotten the mountain of work that waited for him back at school; projects, essays and on top of that finals were in two weeks. Despite the importance of those things the thought of deflowering Sam in a night of drunken sexual gratification slowly rose from the depths of his consciousness.

Of what he could remember, he thought he did okay but the real question was; what did she think? Or did he want to know what she thought? That was iffy. If it was good – then hell yes, he wanted to hear all about but if it wasn't – then no – his self-esteem was already below sea-level.

"See if these fit."

"Huh?" Freddie turned to the door as Spencer launched a pair of sweat pants at his head. The cotton fabric slapped him in the face and the hardened tip of the inner drawstring caught him right in the corner of the eye.

It stung like a bitch.

"Sorry," Spencer called. "But can you hurry? I'm not sure how much longer Sam and Marissa are going to play nice."

Clamping one eye shut like a pirate, Freddie stepped into the sweats. They were way too long but at this point he wasn't going to complain. "Where's my shoes?" he asked the empty bathroom.

He went out into the main room, searching everywhere. Trying to remember when they came off, he focused on the area closest to the bed. That's when he heard the commotion coming up the stairs and his mother's voice calling his name.

"Freddie!"

Cursing under his breath, he looked around the room full of incriminating evidence. Doing his best to throw the comforter over the bed, he saw Carly rush over to the bathroom and slam the door closed.

At his mother's suspicious glance, Carly offered a hasty, "There's a plumbing issue." He wasn't sure if his mom believed her or not but at the sight of the glowing poles in the center of the room her eyes widened so much it was as though she was a live anime character.

"Are those…?" Mrs. Benson gasped.

"Support beams," Spencer cut in, leaning on one with his outstretched arm.

"Custom-made support beams," Sam added.

"Is there a structural issue with the building?" Mrs. Benson stiffened clenching her fists.

"No. No issues," Spencer tried his best to add another layer to the lie cake.

"Mom," Freddie interrupted doing his part to her the hell out of there. "I'm starving. Let's go eat." He put on his best good son smile.

That seemed to do the trick and his mother reluctantly changed gears to discussing where to stop for dinner. With the help of Sam and Spencer they loaded up the car in one trip. Carly sat in the backseat so Freddie could ride shotgun as an 'in case of puke' safety measure.

Fortunately that didn't happen and the rest of the night was uneventful. He was able to eat dinner and being hungrier than he originally thought ordered desert too. He saw Carly's worried expression as he ate but her fears were unfounded. They arrived back at school with his stomach happily digesting food and zero instances of vomiting.

Carly was exhausted and as soon as she entered her dorm Freddie watched her fall face first onto her bed. Waving goodbye to her and her roommate, he walked back to his dorm trying to decide what to do for the rest of the night.

Since he didn't feel tired the obvious choice was to work on school assignments. He saw that there was homework assigned on Friday – those bastard professors! But before Freddie started anything, he took out his phone and called Sam.

She didn't answer and he left a lame voicemail while trying not to use the word 'virginity' or any of its derivatives which proved more difficult than he expected.

Setting his phone down on the desk beside him, Freddie booted up his laptop ready to pull an all-nighter. It was well after midnight when his phone buzzed with a reply from Sam:

I swear if you tell Carly I will shove a taser so far up your ass that you will vibrate like an electrocuted squirrel.

Sam's threats weren't nearly as terrifying when he was miles away in the safe haven of his dormitory. Freddie quickly typed his own response:

There're a few things I'd enjoy shoving up your ass.

He hesitated before hitting send. Sexting wasn't something Freddie Benson had ever done. He'd never had the opportunity and he debated on whether his maiden voyage should be with Sam. Probably not. She'd show everyone at work and they'd laugh at him.

But as he tried to backspace he hit send by mistake.

Fuck.

After several minutes of no reply from Sam, Freddie began to wonder if she even got the text. She would have sent something back – right?

Nervously, Freddie sent a second text:

I won't tell Carly.

Freddie tried to start his homework but he kept glancing at the screen as though a reply would magically appear. When none did, his brain began to make excuses. It was late, maybe Sam was asleep. Maybe she didn't feel like talking? Or maybe she forwarded the conversation to everyone she knew.

Driving himself crazy, he couldn't focus on his assignment. Then when he tried to lay down he couldn't fall asleep. It was 3am when he trekked down the hallway to the showers. Even that wasn't relaxing as the thought of missing Sam's potential reply led to a 3 minute shower.

Around 5am, Sam still hadn't texted and somehow Freddie managed to fall asleep without setting his alarm. He overslept, missed breakfast and his first class – AND by noon there was still radio silence from Puckett.

Although Carly had sent a couple texts about not meeting up with her as they normally ate almost every meal together. He felt bad about being rude. She was right, he should have texted that he overslept.

Throughout the day Freddie sent Sam a few more texts but they went unanswered. At this point Freddie didn't know what to think. Maybe her phone was broken or lost? He called and left another voicemail with his concerns.

This silent treatment continued all week long. Despite the plethora of texts to Sam of the pathetic; R U mad? ; variety, he was beginning to fear the worst. The first (and probably only) girl he had the privilege to deflower was never going to speak to him again.

Freddie was getting more and more upset about the whole situation. Normally he would talk to Carly but he promised Sam not to mention this to her. But as he sat at lunch with Carly on Friday afternoon, he could tell she was highly suspicious that something was going on. Freddie did his best to pretend that he was fine but it was hard to fool someone you've known your entire life.

There had to be some way to bring this up to Carly without spilling the big secret but he was hesitant. Last time he and Sam had a "let us never speak of this again moment" he'd been the one to open his big mouth. He couldn't do that again.

Instead he suffered through forced conversation like he usually did with his mother.

"I had a lot of work to get done."

"Been really busy with projects for almost every class."

"No. I'm not ready for finals next week."

He was grateful when Carly finally shut the hell up. As she was leaving he mentioned having dinner plans with a few guys from his floor, in hopes of avoiding the interrogation he knew was coming.

Carly's eyes narrowed as her lips set in a thin line.

She was definitely angry. He would have attempted an apology but a classmate of Carly's approached so he was able to get away without one as the girls went to class.

Left to his own devices, Freddie returned to his dorm and put his mind into studying for finals.

About 7-ish, someone pounded on his door. Putting his notes down, Freddie got up to answer it only to find one furious Carly Shay at the threshold.

Without waiting to be invited she stormed into his room proclaiming, "We need to talk."

"Okay," Freddie watched her flop on his bed. "Come in. Make yourself comfortable."

"I feel like this is all my fault."

What the fuck was she talking about?

"I blame myself because, well, I can't blame you or Sam." Hands flapped in their over version of sign language as she got up and paced across the room. "It happened and nothing can change that…"

Uh oh. Warning lights flashed through Freddie's mind.

"… and I really don't like how this feels."

"Okay," Freddie swallowed and folded his arms over his chest, trying to stay as poker faced as possible.

"So tell me what I'm supposed to do now because I can't keep pretending that everything is fine and that it doesn't bother me."

He forced himself to remain calm even though he was freaking the hell out on the inside. She knows! Did Sam tell her? Fuck. What the hell do I say?

"I hate to show up like a psycho and go off on you but you've been avoiding me all week and I can't take it anymore."

That's when Carly started to cry. Tears are the ultimate kryptonite to the Y chromosome and Freddie felt like an asshole. Reaching out he hugged her, planted a kiss to the top of her head and muttered an "I'm sorry. I wanted to talk to you about it but I promised Sam…."

Carly pulled away suddenly. "Wait a minute, you talked to Sam about this!"

"Sort of. Once. Very briefly…"

"Why would you do that?!"

"Why wouldn't I talk to Sam about it?" Freddie was starting to question Carly's sanity. It only made sense that he and Sam would discuss – you know – cough – her – um - yeah. That.

"If you two are BFFs now, I guess you don't need me," Carly spat as she went for the door.

"Carly," Freddie said as he blocked her from leaving. "I think you may be overreacting, just a little."

"You do?"

"Yeah," Freddie looked into her sad eyes. "Look, this a first for me too and I've been trying to figure out what the next step is. I've been texting Sam all week and…"

"Oh, so you were too busy to talk to me but you somehow found the time to text Sam!" Carly screamed as her hands balled into fists.

Freddie took a step backward from the ebony haired girl standing in his dorm. How she went from crying to crazy in a single sentence was nothing short of an award winning dramatic performance. Only he knew it wasn't an act. Carly was furious.

"WE ANKLE SWORE ON THIS!" she raged.

What? From the moment Carly walked in his room Freddie hadn't known what the hell she was talking about – but obviously Carly thought he did. It was that accidental ignorance that was quickly digging his grave.

He probably should have asked Carly to explain herself earlier, before the Shay train derailed. In a vain attempt to cover his ass and keep Sam's secret Freddie pleaded with a simple, "I messed up. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." Carly wiped a rogue tear away. "I didn't want it to end this way."

"Huh?" Freddie's brow raised and before he could stop himself the words, "What are you talking about?" tumbled out.

"It's over Freddie," Carly's eyes met his.

"Wait a minute," Freddie folded his arms over his chest. This scenario… Those selective words… This was all too familiar "Are you…?"

"Maybe some time apart…" Carly interrupted trying to soothe the situation.

"I know what you're doing!" Freddie yelled at her. "And you can't break up with someone you're NOT dating!"

"It's a friend-break up!" Carly fired back. "And you started it by letting things get weird between us!"

Letting things get weird between us…

21

21

21

FLASHBACK to Chapter Six…

"Carly it's my birthday," he retorted, "and Sam definitely fulfilled her part of the deal…"

"I know, but that was just a blow job," Carly twirled a lock of her hair around her index finger. "This is sex and …well, you've been my best friend forever and …, ummm, I just don't want things to get weird between us."

"No weirdness," Freddie made an "X" with his forefinger over his heart. "Promise."

"I'm serious Freddie," Carly crossed her arms over her chest. "Because you are really important to me and I don't want to mess up our friendship."

End of FLASHBACK

21

21

21

Freddie Benson realized that he was in the wrong. He'd been so preoccupied with keeping his promise to Sam that he inadvertently broke the one he made to Carly.

"Carly, I know I haven't been the greatest friend this week but it's not because we had sex," Freddie raked his fingers though his hair. "Something happened with Sam and…" He stopped unsure how or if he should continue.

"And…," Carly prompted.

"It's personal and I don't want to talk about it with anyone but her," he finished. "At least right now."

Her patronizing look was more than Freddie could take.

"What else do you want me to say, Carly?" Freddie scowled. "I know you think you're entitled to full disclosure but you're not. I'm not obligated to tell you every last detail of my sex life."

"Your sex life?" Carly immediately perked up. "Did something happen when you and Sam were…?"

"No. NO!" Freddie lied, unconvincingly.

"If you tell me I might be able to help."

"I don't want to talk about it." Freddie sat down on the edge of his bed

"Was it that bad?" Carly sat next to him.

"Carly…," Freddie took a deep breath.

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll back off. For now."

"Thank you," Freddie slumped forward, head in his hands. He felt Carly's hand sliding along his spine. "I'm really sorry about blowing you off this week. I guess I should have told I had something going on instead of trying to avoid you."

"You could have texted," Carly sang causing Freddie to smile a little. "But there's something I want more than an apology," she added.

"Anything," Freddie agreed happily.

"Between you and projects and studying for finals I've been really stressed out this week," Carly said as she traced S-shaped curves down his back. "It's been so bad I even got a pimple." She tucked her hair behind her ear and showed him the tiny red dot on her face, which in Freddie's opinion could easily pass for a dab of ink from a red Sharpie.

"You wanna take some shots?" Freddie offered, remembering that he had a full bottle of liquor stashed in his room.

"What kind of shots?" Carly asked.

"I think its vodka," Freddie got up and went to the closet. Rummaging all the way to the back, he removed the bottle from the depths of a semester's worth of junk. "Its Black Haus," he frowned as he read the label. What the hell was that?

"Uh, pass," Carly decided after taking a minute to examine the bottle.

"You want me to go out and get something?" Freddie offered. "I am twenty-one now."

Carly set the bottle down on his desk and looked at it for another long second.

"I don't mind," he added, the novelty of being completely legal hadn't worn off yet.

"Why don't we stay in?" Carly suggested.

"Yeah sure." Benson was agreeable to anything at this point. "Want to check out SplashFace?" He was already clicking on the favorites tab of his laptop when he felt Carly's hand slide up his back again. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, he was confused when her other hand slid over his wrist, directing the mouse to click on one of his playlists.

Then when he saw which playlist she picked he was even more intrigued.

With an eyebrow raised, he stayed completely silent as she adjusted the volume letting the songs begin to play.

Swallowing so audibly that he was sure she had to hear it, Freddie Benson officially started to feel nervous as Carly reached for the belt loops of his jeans. He was staring down at the neckline of her shirt, suddenly realizing how low cut it was. Gaze traveling from her chest, up to her face, to her eyes which spoke an undeniable, Fuck me.

Take a breath. Take a fucking breath. He told himself as his shoulders tensed up and his knees locked into place.

With a light tug she closed the distance between their bodies until even a piece of paper wouldn't fit. The feel of her curves molded against him causing Freddie to close his eyes and waited for the inevitable erection to present itself.

Carly moved suddenly and he felt the softness of her lips tenderly touch his own.

Holy shit! This is seriously fucking happening!

Freddie wasn't sure what to do next. Well, he knew what to do – but this wasn't some girl who for whatever reason ended up in his dorm room – this was Carly. Sure they had sex on his birthday and then last weekend but those were isolated was alcohol-induced incidents.

Right?

Stop thinking Benson.

And it was hard to let go when every cell in his body was second guessing itself. But as she unbuttoned his pants and slid her hand over his cock, not thinking became much easier. Shoving his tongue down Carly's throat, Freddie managed to get his hands up the back of her shirt. His efforts to unhook her bra were continually interrupted as she played with his cock. It was more like teasing than a hand job as her fingertips lightly dragged across his skin, not quite tickling him but close enough.

Forgoing his efforts with her bra, Freddie tried for her jeans next. Using one hand he tried to get the button undone but it was tougher than it seemed. He tried going in through the zipper, pulling it down to access the silky fabric of her panties.

As he did, the warmth of her hands left his pants and brushed under his shirt causing an involuntary shiver. Hands climbing up his back, she nestled closer against him, kissing him harder. Using both hands, Freddie desperately tried to pop open the stubborn button on her jeans. After two haphazard attempts, he finally got it.

Who the fuck invented skinny jeans anyway?

Elated at his accomplishment, Freddie eagerly drove his hands down along her ass. Feeling nothing but skin, his erection pulsed at the image of a thong-clad Carly Shay. Grinding their hips together, he began kissing her harder.

Even though it had only been six days since he'd had sex, Freddie's body reacted as though he'd been in a year long drought. Half-dragging Carly backward, he got her so close to his bed that on her next step she bumped against the side and clumsily landed sitting down on the mattress.

At that moment they both took a breath.

But Freddie wasn't about to let this opportunity pass by and so he kicked his shoes off and hastily removed his shirt before leaning over to kiss Carly again. As he crawled onto the bed, she wriggled beneath him. He felt a shoe hit him in the shin and then the thud of a second shoe as it bounced off the frame of the bed. Carly's back was to the sheets as she removed her jeans, tossing them to the floor. Freddie stayed still as Carly stripped him of jeans and boxers while simultaneously rolling him onto his back – which was not as poetic as it would seem – as his feet were still caught in his pants and he half-tripped, half-fell onto the bed next to her.

Changing position once more, Freddie scooted to the center, head resting comfortably on his pillow as he watched Carly's shirt turn inside out as it made its way over her head before falling to the floor.

One thing he realized was that her actions tonight were premediated. Wearing perfectly matched bra and panties – something he knew she only did when she was planning on being undressed – she climbed up toward him stopping when her face was parallel to his dick.

Twitching with anticipation, he wondered if she planned on sucking it and maybe swallowing because that had been so fucking hot. Absentmindedly, she scooped the hair from one side behind her neck and let it join the other section. As her palms set on his thighs, gently spreading his legs apart, Freddie let out a low sigh.

Tracing her tongue along the broad border of her mouth, Carly descended. Warm velvety lips touched the head of his cock and it was all Freddie could do to keep himself from grabbing the back of her head and thrusting deep down her throat. But it was hard to remain in control when she was leading him on with kisses and patronizing licks to his shaft.

"Fuck," he hissed as she outlined the top of his 'shroom with her tongue. "Put it in your mouth, Carly," he panted.

But she didn't and he was getting impatient. "Suck it. Come on. Please," he resorted to begging as he reached for the back of neck. She eluded his grip, creeping up to whisper, "Why don't I just fuck you instead?" into his ear.

Eyes popping open in astonishment – a sober Carly Shay talking dirty? Freddie didn't know what to say so he hugged her tightly, biting on that spot on her neck that turned her to jelly.

She referred to that spot as her Achilles heel in almost every sex conversation they'd ever had and he'd be a fool to not use that knowledge to his advantage - and was it ever an advantage.

In seconds her panties were absolutely soaked.

"unhhhhFreddieunhhhh," she crooned, practically collapsing onto top of him as he rubbed a palm against the outside of the wet fabric.

Chocolate eyes laden with intent set on him, and Freddie felt the glimmer of hope at his new found bedroom skills. Carly Shay had never looked at him like that before.

As she sat back, Freddie propped himself up with his elbows, watching as she hastily stripped down to absolutely nothing.

"I'm on top this time," she stated cupping his face as she kissed him again.

Freddie wasn't about to argue. She could have it whichever way she wanted.

"Hold me here." She lowered his hands from her waist down to her hip bones as the flurried kisses continued. Freddie did as he was told, keeping his hands in place as she rocked back.

"Oh fuck, Carly!" Freddie grunted, eyes involuntarily closing as Carly went right for total penetration, instead of slowly easing onto his erection like he expected. The sleek warmth of her body surrounded his cock. His fingers dug into her hips trying to slow her down as she went at a near frantic pace.

"Carly!" Freddie panicked knowing that he could not last much longer. "Carly! Uhhhhh. Uhhhhhh." He tried to inhale but it felt so fucking good.

Opening his eyes he saw her above him. Dark hair hung down against pert breasts bobbing slightly with each bounce. Lips were parted slightly as she tilted her head back, hips thumping down against him.

And he wanted her to reach orgasm – he truly did - but it was as though she'd given him a mile head start. He knew his race was almost over even though she'd barely begun. Reaching up he grabbed a clump of hair and pulled it as hard as he could.

"OWWW!" Carly wailed, as she gave in to the tension by twisting forward.

Wrapping his other arm around her, Freddie held her against him biting her neck one more time as he went into the home stretch. A handful of thrusts later he reached orgasm.

Carly's body shuddered as Freddie's final motions lifted her almost off the mattress.

Removing his mouth from her neck, he noticed there was a mark. A big one. Not quite a hickey but any dentist could probably ID him from the impressions his teeth left.

"Sorry," he apologized smoothing her hair back in place, only to realize that he had several loose strands of black hair threaded through his fingers.

Her head settled on his chest and he traced the bumps of her spine as they listened to the music that was still playing. As a new track began, Freddie asked candidly albeit a bit timidly, "On a scale of one to ten, how bad was I?"

"Bad?" Carly said as she snuggled closer. "Why would you think that?"

"I lasted less than a minute, yanked out a bunch of your hair and I think you should have the nurse practitioner take a look at your neck."

"Ohhhh Freddie," Carly mused, lifting her head up and planting a soft kiss on his lips. "You don't give yourself enough credit."

"I don't?"

"You're much better than you think," Carly grinned widely and kissed him again.

"So I'm good?"He couldn't help smiling.

"I wouldn't be spending the night if you weren't," she replied nesting her head in the crook of his neck.

"You're sleeping here?"

"I doubt we'll be doing much sleeping."

Calling all Screddie shippers - don't forget to put this story on Alert.