The morning had long since burned off into the stifling heat of midday, leaving noon square in its wake.
Down in his bedroom, Danny was comfortably buried under a heavy pile of blankets, getting the kind of deep, uninterrupted sleep that only follows a night full of exhausting activities.
He had already been dragged out of his stupor once when his family practically pounded down his door for breakfast.
He had stumbled out, stuffed his face to capacity, and the moment the front door clicked shut with his parents and sister leaving the house, he had immediately belly-flopped back into bed to resume his hibernation.
DING, DONG.
The shrill chime echoed through the quiet house, cutting right through his dreamless slumber.
Danny groaned, burying his face deeper into his pillow, praying to whatever god was listening that whoever it was would just give up and go away.
DING, DONG! DING, DONG, DING, DONG!
"Ugh... son of a bitch," Danny rasped, his voice thick with sleep.
The doorbell chime transformed into an absolute assault.
The visitor began hammering the button in a relentless rhythm that shattered whatever sanity Danny had left.
He snapped.
Growling out every single creative, foul curse he could conjure—stringing together profanities that would make a seasoned sailor blush out of pure embarrassment—he yanked off the covers and swung his legs out of bed.
Without bother to grab a shirt, he stomped down the stairs barefoot, every step practically shaking the wooden risers.
He marched up to the front door, grabbed the knob, and ripped it open with enough force to nearly tear it off the hinges.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH—!"
The roar died right in his throat.
The obscenities he was ready to hurl at the intruder vanished into thin air the second his eyes registered who was standing on the porch.
Samantha Freaking Manson.
She was standing there, looking like an absolute vision of modern gothic perfection.
Her short, layered bob-cut hair was a dramatic, eye-catching blend of deep black and vibrant purple gradients, styled in a messy, voluminous look that framed her face.
Her light-colored eyes peered out beneath dark lashes, her subtle blush contrasting sharply with her edgy, sharp features.
She wore a tight, sleeveless black tank top paired with heavily distressed, ripped dark jeans that hugged her frame.
Around her neck sat a thick black leather choker alongside a longer silver chain holding a stylized skull pendant.
Her left wrist was wrapped in a wide, buckled leather cuff, and a series of silver hoop earrings glinted in the bright afternoon sunlight.
Visible across her left forearm was a prominent, intricate piece of line-art tattooing—a detailed koi fish design that snaked up toward her elbow.
(IMAGE)
Sam was just as stunned.
The furious scowl she had been wearing while mashing the doorbell melted away in a fraction of a second, replaced by a deep, sudden, bright red blush.
Why?
Because the complete idiot before her was entirely shirtless.
He was standing in the doorway, casually parading a ridiculously well-toned body for anyone on the street to see.
And to make matters worse, he was wearing nothing but a pair of simple, casual blue denim shorts.
SHORTS.
No belt, no shirt, just bare skin and denim.
Her gaze involuntarily tracked across his broad shoulders, down the cut definition of his chest and arms, to the clearly visible, sculpted six-pack carved into his abdomen.
His pitch-black hair was wildly messy, falling between his expressive, bright blue eyes, and a slight sleep-flush painted his nose and cheekbones.
(IMAGE)
Seeing him exposed like that made Sam's brain go completely blank. Her jaw dropped, her mouth agape as she stood frozen on the welcome mat.
Silence hung over the porch for a few seconds that stretched on like hours.
Danny watched her expression shift from annoyance to stunned paralysis, and his irritation evaporated into pure smugness.
A slow, cocky grin spread across his face. He leaned casually against the doorframe, flexed his arm slightly, and gestured down at himself with a mischievous brow raised.
"Like what you see?"
Peeeeeheeeeee!
An invisible cloud of steam practically blew out of Sam's ears.
Her face burned a shade of crimson so dark it looked painful.
She slammed both hands over her eyes and let out a strangled shriek.
"Do you fucking mind?!" she yelled through her fingers, her voice cracking slightly. "What the hell is this, an exhibition?! Put a shirt on, you absolute degenerate!"
Danny's grin widened until his cheeks hurt.
He darted his eyes left and right, scanning the empty suburban street to ensure no nosey neighbors were watching.
Seeing the coast was clear, he reached out, grabbed Sam by the waist, and yanked her across the threshold in one swift motion.
He slammed the front door shut behind her.
BAAM.
************
"Kyaa!"
Sam let out a thoroughly un-goth, shockingly cute yelp as she was pulled off-balance and dragged straight into the foyer.
Before she could process the sudden change in momentum, Danny pressed his back firmly against the heavy wooden door, using his momentum to pull her straight into his space.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his bare, broad chest.
If Sam had been flustered outside, she was an absolute, chaotic mess now. Trapped against a wall of warm, muscle-bound heat, her senses were completely overwhelmed.
"D-Danny! Wah—wait a minute—mmfh!"
She tried to protest.
She really, truly tried.
But the young Fenton was far too driven by a mix of sleep-deprived lust and sudden adrenaline.
He leaned down, cut off her voice, and crashed his lips onto hers in a fierce, breathless kiss.
Sam's eyes snapped wide at the sheer boldness of the assault.
Her hands instinctively pressed against his chest to push him away, but the heat radiating from him, combined with the firm, unyielding pressure of his mouth, shattered her resistance instantly.
Within seconds, her eyelids fluttered shut. Her hands slid up from his chest, wrapping around his neck to anchor herself as she yielded completely to her idiot boyfriend.
"Mmf... mmmhh."
Soft, muffled sounds escaped her throat as Danny deepened the kiss, ravishing her lips with a hunger that made her knees turn to water.
His left hand gripped her waist tightly, holding her pinned, while his right hand slid down over the fabric of her ripped jeans to rest on her hip—before dropping slightly lower to give her buttock a firm, deliberate squeeze.
Sam's entire body jolted. The bold gesture took her completely off guard, sending a shiver straight down her spine.
Capitalizing on her gasp, Danny's lips parted, his tongue sliding forward to claim her mouth completely. When she instinctively tried to pull back from the intense intrusion, Danny leaned in and nipped lightly on her lower lip.
"Ahh!"
The small squeak of surprise was all the opening he needed.
He invaded her mouth entirely, his tongue exploring every inch, tasting her, tangling with hers in a messy, breathless rhythm.
Sam's head spun. Her light-colored eyes opened lazily, completely dazed and dreamy, as if she were heavily intoxicated. No matter how mature, cynical, or tough she acted around town, this was entirely uncharted territory for her.
Danny, on the other hand?
The sheer confidence and dominance with which he was driving the kiss made him seem ridiculously experienced, pressing her so tightly against him that she couldn't miss the distinct, hard press of his erection throbbing against her hip through his denim shorts.
Realizing just how worked up this beast was, Sam felt a wave of possessive thrill hit her.
A mischievous thought crossed her mind, and she subtly shifted her hips, rubbing herself lightly against the stubborn pressure down there.
"Ugh... mmk."
A low, heavy groan rumbled out of Danny's chest, directly into her mouth. He loved it, his grip on her tightening as he pulled her impossibly closer.
Sam smiled against his lips, emboldened by his reaction, and began to kiss him back with equal fervor.
The chaotic, breathless assault went on for five full minutes, the silence of the empty house filled only with the faint sound of soft moans, rustling clothes, and heavy breathing.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were gasping for air.
Sam was a complete disaster.
Her sleek gothic makeup was ruined, her lipstick smeared around her mouth along with a messy trace of saliva. Her cheeks were flushed bright pink, and her purple-black hair was even wilder than when she had walked in.
Danny looked down at her with a soft, impossibly sweet smile, his heart hammering against his ribs as they stared into each other's eyes, trying to catch their breath.
He reached up, gently cradling her cheek with his thumb. "Good morning, Sam."
Sam blinked, exhaling a ragged breath as her mind slowly rebooted. "Well... it should be noon, considering it's way past twelve," she muttered, her voice raspy.
"Oh," Danny smirked, his eyes sparkling playfully. "Then good afternoon, darling."
A tiny, reluctant laugh escaped Sam's lips. She shook her head, leaning into his hand for a brief second before bringing both of her hands up to cup his face.
"You're an idiot," she whispered affectionately.
Her hands slowly slid down his jaw, tracing the line of his neck, down his broad shoulders, and finally coming to rest flat on his smooth, bare chest.
Then, without a single second of warning, her fingers latched onto his nipples—and pinched down with the absolute maximum force her hands could muster, twisting violently.
"OW! OW! WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL, SAM?!"
Danny howled in sudden, agonizing shock, his entire body jerking as he tried to pull back.
But Sam dug her nails in, applying ruthless, localized pressure that practically paralyzed him with pain.
Danny grimaced, twitching violently as he tried to peel her fingers off without tearing his own skin off in the process.
"You motherfucking, cock-throbbing, lust-driven asshole!" Sam hissed, her voice dropping into a lethal, venomous glare while keeping her grip tight. "First, you sleep until the damn afternoon and leave your fucking phone on silent! Then, when I actually take the time to come to your doorstep to check if you're dead, instead of apologizing like a normal human being, you sexually assault me in the hallway and ruin my entire face of makeup! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!"
With every emphasized word, she gave another vicious squeeze, making Danny grunt in pure agony.
"Alright, that's it!" Danny grunted through grit teeth.
He wasn't going to stay hostage to his own anatomy forever.
Suppressing the pain, Danny brought both of his hands up and violently swatted her wrists away, breaking her grip.
Before she could reset her stance, he stepped inside her guard, swept his leg smoothly behind her ankles, and executed a clean, effortless martial arts takedown.
He controlled her fall completely, making sure her head and back were cushioned as they hit the floor.
Thump.
In a fraction of a second, Danny pinned her right hand to the floor with his palm, while shifting his body to trap her left arm securely beneath his knee. He hovered directly over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the hall light as he looked down at her like an apex predator that had just successfully grounded its prey.
Sam's breath hitched. Looking up into those sharp, intense blue eyes staring down at her with total dominance made her face flush all over again, her heart doing a frantic double-tap against her ribs.
Danny held her there for a heavy, silent moment, letting the tension coil between them until it was almost unbearable. Then, he leaned down slowly, his warm breath mingling with hers, and placed a gentle, lingering kiss right on her forehead.
Sam blinked, her brain short-circuiting at the sudden, jarring shift from dominant predator to gentle boyfriend.
Danny shifted his weight, releasing her hands, and smoothly stood up. He extended a hand down to her, pulling her effortlessly back onto her feet. The moment she was upright, he wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him once more, and rested his forehead against hers.
"I'm really sorry," Danny murmured, his voice laced with genuine, vulnerable guilt. "I totally went overboard. I wasn't thinking straight when I opened the door... but then I saw you standing there, looking so ridiculously beautiful and hot, and I just completely lost my damn mind. I'm sorry I'm such a shitty boyfriend."
Sam stood frozen in his embrace, the lingering anger draining out of her instantly. She could hear the sincerity in his voice, feel the subtle tremor in his hands.
Sure, he had been a brute, and yeah, he had completely wrecked her makeup—but it wasn't like she had actually hated it.
In fact, her heart was still hammering a mile a minute from how intense it had been.
And as for the brutal nipple-twist? That was just her getting her revenge and having a little fun at his expense.
Hearing him sound so genuinely remorseful made a small pang of guilt shoot through her own chest.
Sigh.
Sam let out a long breath, her shoulders relaxing as their foreheads separated.
She reached up, her fingers gently caressing his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before leaning in to press a soft, sweet kiss onto his lips.
Danny blinked in surprise, his bright blue eyes widening slightly before a warm, relieved smile stretched across his face.
"Okay... you're forgiven," Sam muttered, looking away as she nervously began running her fingers through her messy hair, trying to fix the volume. Her cheeks burned as she added under her breath, "And... for the record... I wasn't even that mad. I actually liked it, okay?"
Danny's sweet smile instantly morphed into a massive, insufferable grin. He leaned down into her space, nudging her shoulder playfully. "Oh yeah? Since you liked it so much, you want me to throw you back down and do it again?"
Sam's face darkened in a split second, her eyes narrowing into cold, murderous slits as she glared up at him.
"NO."
"Okay!" Danny squeaked instantly, holding his hands up in surrender and flashing a panicked thumbs-up. "Message received!"