"What is that?"
"What's this movie?"
Jon and Sabrina, snuggled close to each other on the couch, looked at each other strangely, each searching their faces for explanations to their confusion.
"I said a Patrick Swayze movie. You know, like Dirty Dancing or Ghost?" Sabrina questioned.
"Road House IS a Patrick Swayze movie," Jon corrected, doing a double-take from her claim.
"Let me rephrase then Jonathan, 'let's watch a good Patrick Swayze movie, like Dirty Dancing or Ghost.'"
"And dutiful servant that I am, I decided to pick BETTER Patrick Swayze movies to entertain you, like Road House and Point Break."
Never in her life had she heard talk of servility spoken with such sarcasm. It probably happened all the time among couples, but few women had the ability to make it reality like Sabrina. And few men had the balls to challenge it like Jon. She laughed at their exchange, continuing to laugh as he tried to ignore her affect while keeping her body close as he began enjoying one of his favorite movies.
The hand already wrapped around his torso gripped him a little more firmly, bringing his body off the back cushions slowly, and holding him steady there, until she let her body shift from side to side, dragging his in tow. Each shift felt a little more deliberate, and all Jon could do was turn his head to look at Sabrina and question her actions with raised brows and slight signs of worry across his face. He chose to figure it out more than fight it, and sighed as he believed he'd arrived at the explanation.
"Let me guess - you're putting the sway in Swayze."
Laying her head sweetly against his shoulder and squeezing his body didn't prevent her from stopping the swaying. "How I love how we know each other so well. Honestly, I was going to wonder if we were moving enough for it to be a literal sway, but your confidence convinced me well enough. I certain didn't even need to do this to test."
Leaving the movie aside for a moment, his mind and senses searched for whatever "this" was supposed to be. He didn't feel any different, and didn't feel her doing anything differently. Eyes darted in every direction to figure out what she was talking about, until he took sight of a blue crystal pendant, just above his eye line. He was impressed how she'd snuck it past his awareness, and seemed to keep it still and relatively stationary as it swayed.
"Although, since it's already there, it can't hurt to test the sway in-progress. If it feels your eyes are tracking the shiny blue back and forth, that should qualify. Though it might seem like an inverse experience to when your head is relatively still and your eyes go back and forth, I would still claim that it should be a parallel; your eyes are still moving, your head is going with the flow, and you're caught up in a motion that takes you along for the ride and doesn't let you stop. You certainly wouldn't be inclined to stop it, you know it too well. You're so well-conditioned that it's practically muscle memory, as perfect as those fight scenes from your favorite movies you watch. You know every move, every grunt, every attack, every punch and parry, you can feel it even in calm, soothed muscles that feel so nice, the energy and memory of movement driving you slowly deeper into this conditioned motion. And the muscle memory and motions are so practiced and so very intimate, it's the kind of thing you feel like sharing with someone special, someone who is part of that memory and conditioning. It may be a dance, it may not be a fight, a fight you can dance your way out of, but not a dance you can fight your way out of. So hard to fight the urge to dance perhaps, to take her in your hands, to move into your mutual desires, hers inspiring yours. 'Because you've been waiting so long, and now you've finally found someone to stand by you. We saw the writing on the wall, and we felt the magical fantasy. Now, with passion in our eyes, there's no way we could disguise it secretly. So we take each other's hand, because we seem to understand the urgency. Because you're having the time of your life, even though you may have felt this way before. I swear, it's the truth you can't refute, and you owe it all to me...'"
In the sway of things, Road House went by rather quickly, more uneventful than he remembered it last, so much so that he felt excited to watch Dirty Dancing again, the lyrics of the infamous song stuck deep in his head. His humming the movie's song made Sabrina giggle girlishly as she hugged him tighter, and enjoyed watching her favorite dance movie unfold as her dance partner folded obediently. Sabrina had trouble concentrating at the start as she was still reeling for incorporating "Time of My Life" lyrics into her induction, paraphrasing it like any creative dominant would. It would be fun to see if her version stuck in his head indefinitely. Jon complimenting the good parts of Dirty Dancing he'd forgotten brought her back into it fully; it was as good as she remembered, and even better than before in her opinion. He openly talked about Swayze's dance moves, nearly prompting Sabrina to pause the movie and have them reenact some, but it felt too nice being so close to him to want to move away, wrapped in his body and submission, so she put it off for another time.
He thanked her for her movie suggestion, and she responded with a kiss to his cheek, holding back a groan as she saw him begin to turn on Point Break.
"Remind me again, is this that thrill-seeker heist movie?"
"Totally," Jon tried hard to imitate a ditzy-sounding Keanu. Bringing their bodies close together, he exposed her to the same giddiness he'd felt for Dirty Dancing, as if giving her a taste of her own medicine. He missed the twinkle in her eyes that told him he hadn't gotten enough of hers.
"And remind me again, these guys like to surf or skydive?"
"I've always admired people who can do that. Didn't you tell me this movie got you to try both around college?"
"Yeah, what fun that was," the sarcasm in his voice indicating some less satisfying realities from the movies went ignored by a still-questioning Sabrina.
"More than fun; the movies, your accounts of it, they sound so...exhilarating. Even if you were scared, or the movie made it seem more glamorous than it was, once you were in it, it had to be quite engaging."
Not until well after he was already in it did he notice she started swaying them again, and the crystal resumed its place above his eyeline.
"Like that wide, deep blue ocean, you couldn't see anything else going as far as the horizon. Filming that movie must've been amazing. Like, didn't they have this one sequence where they skydived from a plane over the ocean, feeling the exhilaration of falling, falling, falling, staring at the ocean they were twisting and spiraling their way to? The pull of gravity too strong to resist, the pull of their on need for the exhilaration too strong to resist, needing to head straight into the blue, consumed by the need for that blue. Yet another conditioned and practiced motion, falling, into blue. So ready to fall deeper, to go deeper. And maybe an inkling of worry springs up in your descent that says maybe you're falling too fast, and you're in luck because a parachute springs from your backpack, and your able to slow your descent, so close to the blue now, able to study it more carefully, to see the light flash off of it and into you, so curious about how deep it goes. Wanting to touch the surface, to ride it for a little while, and you're in luck because there are some surf boards on the ocean surface waiting for you, just like the movies."
She couldn't tell whether his eyes struggled to stay open or to wrestle with her inaccurate idea of what happened in Point Break. She figured the former as it became clearer and clearer how close his body was leaning to the pendant. He looked cross-eyed as she brought it to rest on his forehead.
"And surfing that blue ocean, the one you were falling towards feels amazing. Riding the waves, feeling the blue's strength, grace, and magnificence, it's a pleasure enough to wipe out, fall off your board, and laugh to yourself as you swim gratefully in that ocean. You are so grateful, you don't mind at all that if the waters would twist themselves into a whirlpool, carrying you along with it. The blue becomes a spiral, welcoming you into its depths, and you're fascinated, happily drowning self gratefully accepts, going with the flow, falling into its sway. The movement is so perfect, you'd swear there it was under someone's control. It's like a set of hands controlling the spinning motion from one side to another, spinning from deep blue into deep darkness, equally welcoming, making something wonderful, like those spinning pottery kilns. You know, like the ones from that one movie Ghost? Gentle, beautiful hands spinning, shaping perfection, feeling the body of the perfectionist, so turned on by how she weaves her work, falling not only into the darkness, but into her. You turn her on with your admiration for her power so much, she can't help but turn and give her attention to you. Whispering to you 'oh, my pet, my darling, I've hungered for your touch, a long, long time. Time goes by so slowly, and time can only do so much. And of course you're mine. I love your need. I love your need. Godspeed your need to me...'"
Awareness crept back at an opportune time as he found himself kissing Sabrina, holding her close, ignoring how he'd missed Point Break almost entirely, and that the romantic pottery scene from Ghost was paused on the screen. As they came up for air, he wanted to question it, but another lingering kiss to his lips, pinching his earlobe with her teeth, speaking unheard words, the question disappeared. She smiled and giggled again as she resumed the movie, proud of going two for two with a lyrically-induced induction with a repurposed "Unchained Melody" from Ghost.
They enjoyed the rest of the movie in relative silence, with Jon laughing freely at the comedic moments he'd forgotten he'd enjoyed so much. By the end of it, both of them yawned, their time together on the couch felt like one their most fun date nights yet. She moved off the couch, kissing his forehead, announcing she was getting ready for bed, and maybe sleep afterwards.
Her words gave him a grateful charge, as he reveled in watching some of his favorite older movies, even if they went by in a blur. That lone fact got him to check the streaming service for something.
"Sabrina, why does it show that we'd only watched ten minutes of my mov-"
"Hey, before I forget, there's one more Swayze thing I wanted to watch. You remember his Chippendales routine on Saturday Night Live?"
"With Chris Farley? Not sure I have access to that," he reached for the remote, to find it gone, already in Sabrina's hands.
"Not to worry, sweetie. This will help access it," she brought her crystal close to his face, suddenly energized for a little more manipulation, surprised when he gently closed his fist around it, staring at her with a smile.
"We're watching my movies tomorrow. In-full," he stated, not letting her antics in their Swayze marathon completely slide.
She rolled her beautiful eyes, and huffed. "Fine, Jonathan. Tomorrow, macho movies. Tonight," she snapped her fingers loudly, catching him off-guard. Slipping the crystal out of his grip, it appeared before his face again, accessing his urge to disrobe and dance.