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Sugar Walls	By : Beaverhausen13 Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th: The Series Views: 473 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Friday the 13th. The characters of Micki, Ryan, and Jack do not belong to me, they are the property of Paramount, Frank Mancuso, Jr. et. al. and I absolutely do not get paid for this.

Chapter List
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We’re parked at the bar, having just arrived at Ambrosia a few minutes ago, and are ordering our first drinks as the strains of Love and Rocket’s “So Alive” finishes up it’s final few bars. He’s ordered a whisky and water and I’m going with a Tom Collins with extra cherries.
            “Did you want to do a couple of shots, too?” he asks me as Romeo Void’s “Never Say Never” starts pounding through the club.
            “Tequila?” I offer, feeling the need for Dutch courage.
            He nods and adds them to our order.
            I might like you better if we slept together…
            I slip out of my jacket and sling it over my purse as the bartender places our beverages and a shaker of salt in front of us. Ryan turns toward me and smiles, “Shots first?”
            “Always.” I concur, “Give me your hand.”
            Confused, he offers it up, and I take it and lick the space just below the webbing of his thumb and forefinger, then shake the salt on it, “Now do me.” I tell him, offering my hand.
            He gives me a bemused smile, almost questioning, as he deliberately licks the spot on my hand. A jolt of electricity shoots through me upon this action, quelled only slightly by the salt he shakes there upon completion. “On three?” he asks, picking up his tequila shot. I nod and we follow suit, licking the salt after slamming our drinks in one swallow. My body begins to move subconsciously as I lean my back up against the bar, downing my Tom Collins and eating the cherries with relish.
            “Need another already?” Ryan asks, chuckling.
            “I was thirsty.” I say, “Yes, another please.”
            He turns back to the bar to order again as I continue my movements.
            I might like you better if we slept together…
            I’m already feeling the shot and my first drink, so when the second comes I have to remind myself to slow down. I’m still super fucking nervous, especially now that he’s just *staring* at me. I decide to do something rather than dwell on my anxious feelings, so I grab his free hand and lead him out on the dance floor as Janet Jackson’s “Pleasure Principle” begins to play, “I love this song!” I exclaim.
            My body molds into his and my arms go around his neck as his hands move to rest on my waist. We sway suggestively to the beat and I move to grinding on his thigh, spurned on by the rhythm of the music. It’s ungodly nice being this close to him. I lean back slightly to down half of my new drink, then resume my arm’s place back to resting on his shoulder, making sure my hand is steady so I don’t spill the rest of my drink down his back.
            We move this way for the rest of the song and soon it segues into “I’d Like to Get to Know You Well” by Howard Jones, which is another one of my faves, so I let out a little shout of joy as it begins and down the rest of my drink, depositing the glass on a nearby table. Ryan gives me a little spin and pulls my body close to his, our forms coming together and continuing our dance. We’re staring into each other’s eyes, smiling, not saying anything and letting our bodies do all the talking. He smells incredible. Tangible. Like the most masculine of men.
            Like to get to know you well, so we can be one, we can be one together…
            Our eyes are still locked, and both of us have smiles on our faces, but we haven’t said much since we began dancing. Ryan breaks our trance, “What made you ask me out?” he says in my ear, giving me tingles.
            I lean into his ear in response, “Because I wanted to. I thought we might have fun.” I purr, “And Lord knows you could use a little fun. So could I, for that matter.”
            “Well, this *is* fun.” Ryan responds back, “Did you want another drink?”
            “Sure.” I say, distracting my dance for a second and sadly extricating myself from his arms as we head back to the bar. Robert Palmer’s “I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On” begins to play and I can’t stop my movements completely. They seem to be playing all of the songs that I love here, which is a plus. We reach the bar and I dance against his back as he orders our next round of drinks. He finishes and turns back to face me, arms landing in a circle around my waist as he begins to move again, my hands resting on his chest as we sway to the music.
            I didn’t mean to turn you on….
            Is every song tonight going to be this sexually suggestive? I suppose that’s the nature of popular dance music in the 1980’s, but this feels a little ridiculous. He has this light in his eyes, “Did you want to do another shot, too?” he asks me, dipping me slightly in our dance.
            “I’m game.” I answer. I am feeling less anxiety the more I drink, so I feel like giving in. So what if I have a slight hangover tomorrow? Ten to one we’ll just dance out the booze anyway.
He moves us sideways so that we’re facing the bar but still in our dance. “Could we get two more shots of tequila, barkeep?” he asks the bartender as she lingers close to our vicinity. She nods as she plants his whiskey/water and my Tom Collins in front of us. We reach for our drinks with one hand each and take sips as we keep moving. The song ends and Al B. Sure!’s “Nite and Day” begins to play.
I can tell you how I feel about you night and day…
I add a little hip swivel into my dance and this ends up causing us to suggestively grind against each other even more than we already were. He begins to giggle a little and this causes me to follow suit, continuing our dirty little dance with that certain joie de vivre that the truly tipsy know. We get our shots of tequila and repeat our hand licking ritual as we move together. God, that electricity. He’s intoxicating.
Also, he has the cutest dimples in his cheeks. I just want to lick them, honestly. We down our tequila, lick salt, and head back onto the dancefloor. Sheena Easton’s “Sugar Walls” has begun to play and I am really feeling the alcohol now.
…I can show you things you’ve never seen/I can make you never want to fall in love again/Come spend the night inside my sugar walls…
We’ve resumed our drunken grinding with abandon and I’m partially singing along with the lyrics. I move against him, dipping my body back as I roll my shoulders then raising back up so that our chests are touching again. His hands are on my lower back and he’s swaying along with me, but more *watching* me than anything else. It’s very arousing.
Yes. Every song in this club is sexually suggestive, it’s now proven. I don’t know if I love this or hate this. I’m still terrified to cross this line with Ryan, but I’m also so excited I feel like crawling out of my skin to be with him. As my hip connects in another grind, I feel a little of his, um, excitement too. My insides sing a little but I feel I shouldn’t give myself false hope. Maybe he isn’t over Laura. He dips me again, bringing me up slowly as he bends down and moves his face up the front of my torso, seeming to breathe me in as he makes his way up from the side of my neck to meet face to face. My god. He has the most soulful eyes. My ache for him has reached levels of madness.
We’ve moved back into our standard dancing position of me grinding into his thigh with my arms circled lightly around his neck, and our foreheads touch. “Micki, you are so much fun.” Ryan beams at me, “Thank you.”
Fun. It’s a start. Better than him moping, anyway. We both take a swig of our drinks and the song switches to Sade’s “Sweetest Taboo”, and we continue our dance.
There’s a quiet storm, and I’ve never felt this hot before/You’re giving me something that’s taboo…
Our foreheads reconnect as we slow down our movements, his hands sliding up my back as he brings me even closer to him. Jesus, he feels just incredible. We keep looking into each other’s eyes, not needing to say a thing. I feel like Sade’s doing the talking for me.
You’ve got the biggest heart/Sometimes I think you’re just too good for me…
I’ve got it bad. Maybe I’m out of my element here, but tonight, at least I can pretend that he is mine. I haven’t heard a word or seen a gesture of protest yet. I will take this as a positive sign.
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Sugar Walls