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Tomboy is a girl (SurreptitiousApple x Passingtouches)

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PassingTouches

Moon
Joined
Jun 9, 2020
It had been over a week since Sam's sister; Meg, had gotten married and she had invited Matt. It would have been the first time that he had seen her in a dress since she was eight years old and went out as a princess for Halloween - a choice that had not been entirely her own. Since the wedding Sam had been busy after school with family stuff and spending time with Meg before she left on her honeymoon to be followed by her moving to the big city. It wouldn't be for another three months when they would see one another for Christmas.

That Friday Meg had left. Now that it was Sunday Sam had all the free time in the world again and felt she was starting to look herself. Her naturally curly hair had been straightened and then made into waves for the wedding, and was finding itself back to where it was. The makeup that had washed off that night had still felt like it was on her face, making Sam wonder how her mother and sister could wear such copious amounts of it. At least she wasn't forced to all to often, and even what she did wear was hardly more than foundation, a little blush and eyeliner.

Hopefully she'd never have to wear it again, at any rate.

I the early hours of Saturday morning Sam packed a small bag and jumped on her bike prepared to spend the entire day away from home. She cycled through the woods and then walked her bike off the hidden passage way through a thick part of thorny bramble where the teens had discovered a small abandoned two story cabin years ago its hidden nature made it among the chief places they hung out. The only time another group of kids had found it they scared them off with ghost stories. They either believed them, or didn't remember how to get back.

Once Sam arrived to the cabin she entered and climbed the ladder to the second floor and rested her back against the wall directly across the ladder sitting on the creaky floor. A window just to her right let in enough light to see, and thus she started rummaging through her bag looking for last weeks comics which she hadn't caught up on waiting for other to arrive. Inevitably someone would, it wasn't very often that at least one friend didn't show up to the cabin, even without prior plans.

Sam sat, in sharp contrast to how she had appeared last Saturday. Her redish-brown hair no longer in longer waves, but curled resting just above her shoulders. Her face was dirty, and sporting a new scratch from the bramble. Brown eyes not adorned by mascara that made them seem bringer. Her clothing was simple, she wire jeans, ripped at the knee from a bike trick she had tried three weeks ago and failed at three times before making the jump, a pair of boys shoes and a plain black, long sleeved shirt. Although it was still hot out, the fabric was at least breathable. Her small breasts did not make much impression on the shirt, partly because it was baggy, but she also wrapped her chest down with fabric. She never stated she wasn't a girl to anyone in her life, but she hated people looking at her in THAT way.
 
"Fuck off, old man!"

The door slammed behind Matt, startling a small gathering of sparrows in a nearby tree. They scattered into the air to the sound of frenzied chirps and wing flaps, simultaneously frightened and miffed at the source of the noise. Matt, however, his eyes fogged by a red haze, his nostrils flaring, and his ears drowning in a high-pitched ring, didn't notice them at all. He stormed away from his family home, which was a fairly regular occurrence as of late.

Behind him rose the sound of the oafish clambering of his inebriated father, trying to navigate the clutter of beer bottles and empty pizza boxes that had accumulated around his La-Z-Boy. There was a sharp crash followed by a muffled "Fuck!" just before the door slammed back open. Matt's father's slurred speaking voice screamed out, "Don't you dare talk to me like that, you little shit! I shoulda kicked you outta the house the day you turned eighteen!" White, frothy spittle flew out of his mouth, some of it dribbling down his double-chin and landing onto his wifebeater that was stained in splotches of yellow. "W-where are you goin'? Get back here!"

Matt seethed as he hopped on his bike and rode away. His father's voice, along with the whine in his ears, gradually receded into the background until all he could hear was his own heavy breathing and the crunch of rocks and dirt under his tires.

He rode toward the secret cabin his friends had found a while back. Of all the places they hung out, this was his favorite. It was secluded, so he and his friends all felt like they could spend their days there unperturbed by the rest of the world, but most importantly it was a space that allowed Matt let loose and really be himself. Their other hang outs were too public; even the mere chance that someone he knew might see how he really behaved when he thought no one was looking put too much pressure on him. He wore a façade in public, trying to play the perfect son, the infallible older brother, and the upstanding student all at the same time. But the cabin, and his friends, gave him complete freedom from that.

The thorny bramble caught several times on his navy blue t-shirt and scraped white lines in his jeans. Dead leaves and twigs crackled underneath his white sneakers, which were worn and greying from several months of wear. As he emerged from the perilous thicket, he ran his fingers a few times through his short brown hair to knock loose any leaves or dust and then he noticed that Sam's bike was already there. More than a week had passed since Matt was Sam's date to her sister's wedding, and things hadn't quite gone back to normal since. Not for Matt, anyway. He'd caught himself stealing furtive glances at Sam when he didn't think she would notice. Or checked for her reaction whenever he'd make a joke he was proud of. All that freedom to be himself that the secret cabin had afforded him was now slowly being clawed back because of one wedding reception...

"Sam?" he called out, dropping his bike onto the ground. "You in there? I'm coming up."
 
It didn't take too long before the warmth in the cabin to become suffocating. Sam pulled open the window beside her, which was about an inch and a half as the window frame leaned making it impossible to open all the way. It wasn't much, but the window was well placed and allowed a nice breeze to flow in. It was still warm, but at least she could breathe more comfortably. She had just sat down again when her name wafted through the floorboards to her ears. It hadn't taken long at all for someone to join her. Matt to be exact.

"Yeah, I'm up here" she answered back setting her comic to the side. She leaned forward resting her firearms on her bent knees waiting for Matt to get up the ladder that she was in front of her about 5 feet away.

Why had she chosen Matt of her other three friends to be her "date" to her sisters wedding? Why had she chosen a date at all?

Her sister had told her that she could invite anyone that she wanted, and while she might have usually preferred to choose nobody to come to a family event a wedding was a wheelhouse of disdain all on its own. A wedding between Meg and Kurt was an entirely different wedding. Every cliche moment and event was sure to take place, and Kurt's family were extremely conservative - the reason Sam agreed to wear a dress even. How else was she to survive without someone?

Matt seemed the best option of people that would make fun of her silly frilly dress and the way her hair was done like the girls in magazines and advertisements. Not that she had the proportions of those women, or the facial beauty, but still! It felt wrong and very not Sam.

She hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to Matt since that day, at least not alone. Just at lunch with their friends. He hadn't made any jokes when she was around, at least.
 
About three-quarters of the way up the ladder, Matt was finally tall enough to poke his head up into the second floor. The morning sun looked like it was casting a spotlight onto Sam through the open window, with a few more miniscule rays seeping in through the dilapidated roof.

"Hi," he said simply, when he saw Sam sitting all the way against the far wall. Her hair seemed to be completely back to normal now, after looking entirely out of character on her for about a whole week. He grunted up the rest of the way and stepped into the room.

Matt patted dust off his pants as he walked over towards Sam, the old wooden floorboards creaking underneath his feet as he did. After only a few steps, he caught sight of the comic book off to her side and what looked to be a few more peeking out from her bag. He didn't recognize the cover on the comic on the floor, but the top was emblazoned with bright bold "X-Men" across the top. Was it the newest issue?, he wondered. Perhaps all the others in her bag were new as well. Matt hoped she had brought over some of his favorites: Avengers, Spider-Man, Batman and Superman as well. It was sometimes a real blessing having a rich friend, although it must feel even better to have a rich father...

"My dad was being a fucking loser again... I had to get out of the house."

He settled down onto his butt with a loud grunt about two feet from Sam's left, and then rested his own back against the adjacent wall. This was the first time in a while that they'd been without either Trent or Jordan or both, filling the room with their raucous laughter or incessant chattering. Instead there was a thick silence that hung in the air.

"...I guess I was hoping I would catch you along at some point," Matt said finally. "Should we... talk about what happened?"

He threw a sideways glance in her direction to check for a reaction, and then quickly tried to backtrack. "Or, you know, it's fine. We don't have to. We can do whatever you want. Is that the newest issue of X-Men?"
 
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Sam gave a simple wave to Matt's greeting as he climbed up the the second floor to join her. Instinctively she moved over some so that they could both share a piece of the small window. She was about to say something else but words caught in her throat and instead she started looking through her pockets. Whatever she might have been looking for - if anything at all - was not there as she came out empty handed.

The subject of Matt's dad came up which caused Sam to bite the inside of her cheek. She didn't like the man, though she mostly only knew him from the lens of her friend. Her own dad might have been neglectful and disinterested in his "boyish daughter" as he put it. But he wasn't like Matt's dad. Not even close. What could she say about it though? Even now as he confessed he needed to get out of the house to get away from him. She shook her head and looked down at her shoes.

"Well, soon enough we'll be leaving this all behind. Once we graduate" Sam shrugged her shoulders. She never could put into words her feeling for her old man. From the outside looking in she still got pretty much everything she wanted, at least materially and he never struck her. Still, Sam wanted to be something and both her parents wanted her to be just like her mother, or her sister.

Then... broached a subject possibility worse than parents. Sam pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around then and resting her chin on the top of them. It wasn't a common position for her, to curl up. Her usual defense to things was more attack first. But this... who was there to attack? Nothing and nobody.

"Um... yeah it is" she looked at the comic "I got all of the issues we missed last week and this weeks" she muttered not really having interest in the comics and it showed. She used her foot to push the bag closer. She bit her lips inside of her mouth and looked up and Matt. Was he annoyed from last weekends events?

"I think..." she started and then shook her head "I'm sorry?" She didn't mean it to be a question and she meant to continue but what could she say? Her mouth grew dry and she closed it to not look like a fish out of water. She couldn't bare to look at him right now. Fear of being judged so she looked at the wall above him. Common in situations where she couldn't say anything for one reason or another.
 
Matt could see the way that Sam immediately curled up that he had brought up a touchy subject, which is why he tried to change directions. This wasn't typical for her and her body language wasn't lost on him. Their years spent together as close friends meant that they could read each other with exchanging a single word. It meant that sometimes they could turn something as subtle as a smirk or a leg twitch into a full on monologue about the struggle of the laboring commoner against the bourgeoisie. So the full body curl, the protective arm wrap, her neck surrendering to the weight of her head and dropping her chin onto her knees, all of that screamed that she was feeling on the defensive.

He rifled through the comics she kicked over, hoping to find something to distract from his careless broaching of the wedding. Perhaps if they could get on the topic of why Havok was a better brother than Cyclops, or why Wolverine's temper was simply redirected deep-seated jealousy, he might yet recover from this flub.

What's more remarkable was that Matt was never usually this nervous around Sam. They'd known each other forever and already shared their darkest secrets. If one of the friends in their group screwed up or did something dumb, they'd all just laugh about it and tease them for the rest for a week. Instead, his novel uneasiness had him tunnel-visioning so hard on the covers of the comic books that he never noticed the look that Sam gave him, nor her unwarranted apology.

"Wait what?" Matt asked, catching up to the last few seconds of reality. "What are you saying 'sorry' for?" He was genuinely confused, and his half-cocked head emphasized that point. If anything, his own apology had been slowly clawing its way up his throat and she had simply beaten him to the punch.

"Shouldn't it be me? I feel like I was the one who made things awkward at your sister's wedding. I shouldn't have said some of the things I said or did that... at the end of..." his fingers fiddled at the wrapping on the comic books and his eyes looked down at the floor.

"It was just hard not to acknowledge it, you know? You looked completely different. I thought... maybe you liked it or something." He didn't intend for it to sound like he was blaming her, but he had a tendency to take on that tone when he put on the defensive. Two friends with two very different approaches.
 
Sam sat in silence for a few moments after Matt had finished talking. She still wasn't looking at him in the moment and she couldn't help but wonder if she was making things all the worse by apologizing for it. It wasn't that being compliments were a bad thing, she had liked it and even the brief kiss they shared at the end of the night brought a warmth to her cheeks. So much so that she thought her parents would immediately know something had happened. They had to be a crimson red feeling how hot they were but nobody said anything about it.

"I invited you to it, it was weird but I just didn't want to do it alone you know?" she was distant as she spoke, but she did turn ti look at Matt now. You're my best friend and... yeah... I don't know" she let out a sigh using her hand to pull back some hair that was in her eyes. Her face completely bare of make up or the trappings of beauty that she wore at the wedding.

"I don't want to be like them" that part went without saying. "I don't want... ugggh" frustrated Sam pulled herself to her feet and held her arms out.

"You thought I looked good then, look at me now and tell me what you see. Matt, I'm sorry that I tricked you into thinking I'm something I'm not. That's what I'm sorry for. I'm never going to be that girl that could be in a magazine or that you and the others talk and fantasize about. I'm just... me" she shrugged now. She wasn't sad about being herself and she wasn't going to change, but she knew that wasn't was boys liked. It wasn't what got Matt, Trent or Jordan thought was attractive.

Unwilling to change Sam had long pit it out of her mind any thoughts of a relationship with Matt. She was fine with that...

She thought.
 
"Wait a second," Matt said, tossing the comic book back into the pile near her bag. He leaned backwards onto his hands, and looked up at her with another confused frown.

"You're not 'just' you. There is no 'just'. What I see is a really good friend, my best friend, who happens to be a girl. You're clever and witty. You're creative and complex. You can trade verbal jabs with Jordan better than the rest of us and you've outsmarted Trent on his most difficult D&D encounters. You're 'just'? You're just fucking cool, if you ask me!"

Matt stopped himself short before he got too worked up, taking several deep breaths to calm himself down lest he come across as upset. Although he was. It wasn't like Sam to talk down about herself this way and it irked him. She'd never seemed to care about being attractive before, so the sudden focus on it was more than a bit unusual. But upset wasn't the tone he wanted to take with her.

"You're right," he conceded, sitting up and resting his arms on his knees. "You're not like your sister or the girls in those magazines and I don't want you to be; none of us want you to be. Those girls? We're joking when we want to get with them. I bet most of them couldn't even tell us Spiderman's real name, but you could. Who do you think we'd actually like more in real life, hm?"

It was his turn to pull himself up. The confusion had left his face and was, instead, replaced with one that was somber and remorseful. He shuffled slowly over to her, the floorboards of their weathered hideout creaking beneath him, and put a hand on her shoulder. This was the first time they'd touched each other since the wedding.

"Look, Sam. I think I should be the one to apologize. I... I took advantage of our friendship. I got kinda, you know, caught up in all of the partying and stuff. And seeing you dressed up that way with your hair done up nice and with the make-up and I just... I probably shouldn't have kissed you and I'm sorry..."
 
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"Right" Sam responded, and even managed to smile as she retook her spot by the window breaking their contact, her back sliding down the wall as she got back into the position she was in. She let her head rest back against the wall, her knees still up. She knew these things made her a cool friend to be around. She also knew that it was the same reason that nobody looked at her as "relationship material" as her mom so often put it. She was one of the boys, she was cool. Great. She had always been fine with that, she even worked for that.

Sam let her hand run through her hair until the curls stopped it and let out a soft laugh, shaking her head looking up at Sam. "Shit, man, I don't know what I'm going on about. I'm just being an idiot. You didn't take advantage, it isn't like" her brows furrowed and she looked away before she could continue. "It's not like I didn't kiss back or anything."

There was a pause. The notion of something else clawed at the back of her head. She chewed her lip from the inside, an act that could be seen even with her face turned the way it was. A telltale sign that there was something else bumbling in her mind, something that if given the time she couldn't resist saying out loud.

"It's not even like I didn't like it" she laughed a little shaking he head. "Don't be sorry and I won't be sorry, okay?" Sam looked up at Matt, this time a real smile crossed her face.
 
He had spotted her lip chew, which was yet another one of Sam's signs that their group of friends had gotten so accustomed to picking up on. There was something on her mind that she wasn't quite ready to share. But although he had learned what it meant when she did the thing with her lip, he hadn't quite gotten the hang of what it took to tease her little secrets out of her. The last time he tried, he was so off base she nearly took his head off.

"Okay then, yeah. Yeah, sure," Matt responded as-a-matter-of-factly. "I'm not sorry, then." His face started to soften after seeing Sam start to loosen back up, and he eventually matched her authentic-looking smile with his own cheeky grin, his chin tilting upward to complete the smarmy look. "You know what? I liked it too. I regret nothing and would do it all over again."

He sat back down where he'd planted himself before, the imprint of his butt still outlined in dust, and picked the issue of X-Men he had tossed aside. He started to flip through, the pages filled with rapid-fire dialogue and vibrant artwork, but none of that was making its into his brain. Instead, he found himself stealing glances at his best friend.

She had captured his attention at the wedding. And now Matt felt like he was seeing Sam in a clearer light, as if a truth serum had been injected into his consciousness and opened his mind to her. Where he used to see nothing more than a childhood friend with whom he could be himself around, he now noticed the way her rust-colored hair curled right where it met her shoulder or how her body seemed to lose its shape and disappear beneath her baggy shirt. He recalled the way her large brown eyes, when she was concentrating really hard on her turn during a combat phase of D&D, would dart about with a calculated frenzy. Her lips that night? Soft and warm.

Sam had been wrong: He wasn't looking to get the wedding version of her back, but she would also never be her old self in his eyes.

Frustrated that he wasn't getting anything out of the comic, Matt flipped it closed and slipped it gingerly back into its protective sleeve. He leaned back on his hands and then looked at her again, only this time he wasn't trying to hide it. His foot tapped against the floorboard impatiently, which was his tell for wanting to speak up but that he was still searching for the courage.

"So you liked it huh?" he finally said. "Did you want to... like it again?"
 
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Again? Had he said that he'd do it again? Sam hadn't really thought about that, in all honesty. She had assumed that Matt had just gotten caught up in the festivities and the two shared a brief kiss. Something she assumed would be one and done and that she didn't think would ever happen again. Did that mean that he wanted to do it again, or only that he didn't regret it and it wasn't that bad?

Did she want it to happen again?

She didn't answer his comment but watched as he sat back down and started reading the comic. She contemplated it bit in the end she decided that it was just not a thing to even think about. Matt wasn't into 'one if the guys' and was going to marry a magazinessque beauty and have a bunch of kids and...

Things that didn't align with Sam. Same, who wanted to live in the mountains. Sam who wanted to join law enforcement. Sam who would never be that beauty. Same that was afraid to be a mother. He might have denied it, but she'd always be just Sam.

It took moments for Sam to realize that Matt was tapping his foot. How long had it been? She hadn't turned past the second page of the comic she was reading. She turned it to make it seem like she was at least reading but when she looked up she'd be hard pressed to recall what she even had in her hand.

His question brought flame to her cheeks and she had to look away from her friend. So much time had been spent in this very place alone, and nothing like this had ever even come up.

"You aren't even going to ask me to dance?" She asked. What a stupid thing to say. What was wrong with her?
 
Matt stared quizzically at Sam, unsure if he'd heard her right. "Dance?" he repeated, using the question to put out feelers to both confirm that what his ears had picked up was indeed what she'd said, but also a hesitant expression of disbelief.

He laughed. It was a cheerful laugh. One that was thankful for a break in the tension that had been gradually building between the two best friends on a sunny Saturday morning. It offered up a moment of levity in an otherwise serious atmosphere that almost suffocated the room. They didn't usually talk like this. Their little hideout was more commonly filled with irreverent banter, filthy jokes, and mirthsome play, not this awkward circling around a shared moment from an event that took place a week ago.

So when Matt scanned Sam's face and didn't see any indication that she was joking, his smile disappeared and his nerves came rushing back. "Wait, you're serious? I-I-I thought you didn't like those girly things..." he stammered, as he felt his hands start to sweat. He stood up and tried to sneakily wipe his hands on his jeans as he did. All the literature he'd read, which didn't amount to much, claimed that girls were attracted to boys with confidence, and so he did yet another thing he'd never anticipated he'd ever do with Sam.

He straightened his posture to give the appearance that he was taller. He cleared his throat to work out the frogs. He put on an air of nonchalance, as if to say none of this was a big deal to him. "I mean, I can. You just surprised me, is all," he followed. Matt's open palm reached out in Sam's direction by way of invitation. "Well? You wanna?"
 
Sam raised an eyebrow when he questioned what she said but offered no other answer. No verbal or visual cue to show that she had been joking or that she wasn't serious. She also didn't nod or give any indication that she was serious, she left her friend to figure it out. Of course, she couldn't hide the color that raised to her cheeks, bit she also didn't look away to try and hide it.

His laugh almost made her crack into a smile of her own but she resisted. It wasn't easy, his laugh was infectious, especially when it was genuine. Still, she just looked at him from her vantage point on the ground as he laughed then stammered trying to figure her request out. It wasn't as if just girls liked to dance, right? She'd heard the boys on several occasions bragging or fantasizing about dancing with Sarah. Still, that was just so they could touch her and have her press against them.

Even as he straightened and agreed she gave no indication that she was pleased about it. Sam sat there looking up and Matt as he tried to present himself as some sort of storytild gentlemen. To her credit she managed not to roll her eyes when his hand reached out towards her, an offer to be helped up and to dance.

Sam put on a performance then. She feigned nerves. Her hand reached out and then gently pulled back. She bit her bottom lip as if to question if this was right. The slowly she took his hands.

When she did she yanked at the hand and used her leg to sweep his left leg as she tried to pull him down and roll so he didn't fall hard on the ground. She had the element of surprise at least, and she hoped to use that to her vantage and roll Matt onto his back while she rolled on top of him. Her legs straddling him at his hips shed use the hand that she had taken and hold it above his head. She smiled on top of him, her curled hair framing her face.

"C'mon, now" she said, though it was much softer and less mocking than before. Would she have been able to roll him had he been prepared? She didn't know. She had done some wrestling but they were always jerseys to her so she quit.

Without warning she leaned down to kiss his lips. Though she had moved fast, the kiss was soft and gentle.
 
Matt's eyes grew wide when he felt his leg get swept out from under him. The room turned upside down and his head rolled onto the rotting wooden floorboards with a series of loud creaks and cracks. What Sam lacked in strength, she more than made up for in speed. Even if she had telegraphed her intent, it wasn't likely Matt would have been able to react to it in time.

His hands searched the floor for purchase to try and push himself up, his words ready to point out that her attack was entirely unsportsmanlike. His head was still spinning from his tumble onto the floor when he felt the warm, tender lips of his best friend pressed to his. He felt a familiar rush that brought him back to the night of Sam's sister's wedding, when he those same lips had receive his, and when the tenderness made the murmurs of the reception dissolved around him.

Barely any sounds disturbed the quiet of their secluded hideout save for the gentle chirp of birds, the whispers of leaves rustling, and steady breathing of the two friends. Matt's hands lifted from the ground and then, with what felt an eternity of bashful hesitation, found perches upon Sam's body. His left arm draped and rested upon her lower back where her over-sized shirt had earlier been bunched up, and his right hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers snaking through her reddish-brown curls.

His mouth parted every so slightly to draw in the taste of her. While his arms pulled her gently towards him his lips pushed on, starving and yearning for her physically in a way he'd never imagined he would. It would be several seconds before he pulled back with a mischievous grin plastered onto his face.

"Hmph. You couldn't make it a fair match? Is taking me by surprise the only way you can pin me?" he teased, not prepared to admit that she had got the better of him.
 
The kiss, it removed all fight that Matt had in trying to take her down. It was a wicked power, she realized, that she may have over some boys. But, despite her penchant for getting rough when the time called for it, she had a moral compass that wouldn't let her use this realization for evil. Not that she would really want to. Until recently she hadn't really been attracted to anyone. But the surge of emotion and warmth that was created during their first kiss - and replicated again here in this dingy run down buildings - made her want more of it.

The way her held her, she wished he would hold her tighter. She wished they were somehow closer than they already were, with him on the ground and her straddling him. She was not such a prude as to not know what closer could mean, but she was inexperienced enough to know that she wasn't ready for something like that. Not yet. But for the first time there was the brief thought of... maybe. Someday.

The illusion of her femininity shattered all few seconds later when Matt leaned back and teased her. She'd have said something back right away if she wasn't trying to catch her breath and slow her heart. Instead, she sat up, still on him and looked down at her best friend. Sam fought internally for half a second before she gave way and stood up. She wanted to kiss Matt more, but she couldn't let her rep or ego take a hit like that. She stepped back.

"Get up then" Sam demanded, hands at her side, ready should a sneak attack come her way. "Get up and get ready and I'll show you." She looked furious standing there, her shirt height, flushed cheeks and baggy cloths ready to throw down.

"Just remember, you asked for it"
 
Matt was caught a little off guard by Sam's sudden shift in tone. It was fairly normal for some friendly competition between the friends, so when he'd made his comment he had intended it to be in jest, or at most a gentle ribbing that was intended to invite a similarly caustic vocal retort. But in the way that Sam shot up from astride him, the seriousness of her voice, it was clear to Matt that Sam wasn't quite on the same page.

She'd called him out on his bluff, and per the third unspoken rule amongst their group of friends, the bluffer is obligated to put their money where their mouth is. The memory of her lips on his was still fresh in Matt's mind and an excitement had just started to bubble beneath the surface in his lower half, so he was reluctant to answer her challenge. But he didn't have a choice as far as he was concerned, and slowly stood up from the ground and dusted off his pants.

"Yeah, you're right. Okay then," said with a shrug. Matt crouched low with his arms bent comfortable to his side like a wrestler. He knew Sam was faster and more agile than he was, but he was stronger and had a longer reach. The cramped space of their hideout, with its odd grooves and cracks in the floorboards, she should be at a significant disadvantage.

"I'm starting then. I don't want to hear any excuses that you weren't ready," Matt announced. He gave Sam a few more seconds to process his words, then quickly dashed forward and lunged for her legs.
 
It was the constant similar ribbing that was part of the reason that Sam took it so personal. Something, often times, it wasn't in good fun or light hearted either. It's why she left the wrestling team. She constantly didn't have anyone that would actually put effort into it and would just roll to the mat every time to be pinned. At least those on her own team. She could never get better because she could never really see what she was doing wrong. It was frustrating.

The other part, we'll that was because she was being vulnerable and then that came up. It was easier to react rashly than stay in that moment, so that's what she did. That's why she was standing across from her friend and first time kiss ready to wrestle

Sam got into a wrestling stance and was surprised that Matt had moved first - it didnt matter that he said it. She went to sprawl backwards and shove his head down under her and into the ground she found that although she was quick enough, she wasn't strong enough to fully kick back when Matt grabbed one of her legs.

Sam kept trying to kick back to break the hold.
 
Sam was faster than he remembered. He could feel her sprawling even before his hands connected with her, the weight of her body just starting to push and drive his head downward, defending herself against his attempt at a fast takedown. It was only due to his longer reach that he'd managed to grab hold of her at all, his fingers just clasping the back of her right knee where her leg was weakest. Using all the strength he could muster, he flexed his arms to pull her in even as she kicked backwards as hard as she could.

Before she had quit the team, Sam would have easily have handled anyone else trying to pull the same move. Her skill level was hard for anyone else to match, in part due to her natural talent, but also due to her putting in the hours to work and learn and improve. Matt didn't blame her when she quit, because no one else was helping her nurture her skills. Had they done so, this particular unsupervised match in the hideout might have gone a bit differently in the first few seconds.

It was fortunate for Matt, then, that he was multiple weight classes above her, so even when she did everything right he still had the upper hand. He took advantage of their difference in power and took a step forward, closing the gap between their bodies before pushing off on his outside foot, turning his hip outward and driving his shoulder against her chest. He pushed Sam's body up and away from his head as he scrambled his feet around towards her side to allow for a better grip on her leg.
 
There was no doubt about it , Sam was not as good as she thought she was in this moment. She tried everything she could, pushing his head down and then trying to cross her forearm in front of Matt's face as he lifted and pulled her leg closer. He was too strong, his reach was too long. It didn't stop Sam from trying until he had her leg fully and it up.

"You win" she called out before he could go any further. Sam didn't have any qualms with being thrown down. But the platform they were on was already rickety. It already creaked just walking across it and the boards were already separated in places. Admitting defeat was a big deal for Sam but she conceded here. At least the others weren't here to witness it or it'd take being single legged right off the platform before she would stop fighting.

Of course... if they were here, none of this would have even started.

"You win" she said it again, meekly this time but affirming that Matt heard correctly.

He won and she hated it.
 
"Ah, I do like to hear those words," Matt said, panting as he released her leg and crawled up to face her. His body loomed over hers, his chest heaving from his brief burst of athleticism. Hearing her meek concession also brought a cheeky grin to his face. She had put up a good fight despite how quickly the match ended. If he were to be honest, it was decided by a matter of inches, inches that he happened to have and had made this fight unfair from the start. Still, it felt good to prevent Sam from usurping him from his throne as champion wrestler of their group.

As he took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes searched Sam's face. They traced the curve of her cheekbones beneath her messy curls. They glided over her nose and watched the way they flared ever so slightly as she breathed. They watched her brown-colored eyes and the way the sunlight shining between the tree branches just outside their window seemed to swirl around in them. Even without the make-up or the fancy hair from the wedding, she was more than a little compelling to look at.

"Sam..." he said, just above a whisper. The position of his body relative to hers was not lost on Matt. His hands, which were pressed to the floor on either side of her, inched closer. His legs that were propped up onto his knees and straddled hers adjusted themselves. He gazed into the small gap where her lips had parted slightly and felt the pull of them, drawing him in like an oasis drawing a thirsty animal to water.

Matt sucked in a quick breath and leaned in, pressing his mouth to Sam's with an eagerness that matched how much he wanted her in this moment.
 
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