ＣＡＮ＇Ｔ ＨＥＬＰ ＦＡＬＬＩＮＧ． ． ．.ᐟ
﹙❛ For I can't help falling in love with you .ᐟ ❜﹚
TAGS: １８＋﹙𝓶𝓭𝓷𝓲 .ᐟ﹚, '82!michael, ola ray is very crazy about michael in this, light suggestiveness, fluff fluff n' fluff! , jealousy, kisses, banter, established relationship, etc etc. . .
author's note - they're at a random ass theme park because i'm too lazy to do research and i've never been to disneyland.
The sound of Michael's shrieky, joyous screaming was the first thing she heard when the rollercoaster finally plunged into its first drop, sending her heart into a panic that made her scream too as she gripped onto the handles holding her in place. "Oh my gosh!" she breathed to herself, she squeezed her eyes shut, the speed of the freefall sent her curls whipping in the wind. Somehow she had the strength to peak over at Michael, whose head was thrown back in laughter through his excited screaming. He was loving this, and the people behind them were too, judging by the cackling and howling. Ola was trying not to pass out.
Michael had a day off from his job, and also no dance classes, so he planned for them to go to the theme park together again. He was wearing a pretty red varsity jacket and high waisted jeans, with those goofy loafers and socks that he always wore.
She wore a varsity jacket to match him, but it was hot pink, and had a bright, metallic 'O' symbol on the back, over a pastel pink crop top, and a pair of white hot pants she thrifted. She wore her hair up in a ponytail again, but some curls fell free on her forehead.
When the ride slammed to a halt back at the platform, he was still grinning and his eyes were all bright. The afternoon sun made his skin look almost golden, he was flushed and breathing hard, his jacket was a little wrinkled from being pressed into the restraint bars. Her heart, still racing, skipped a beat when his doe-like gaze slid over to hers. Why does he look so attractive when he's happy?
"That was so much fun!" He giggled as they got off the ride together, he grabbed her hand and led her off to find another attraction at the theme park. "Yeah, so fun," she immediately agreed as they got in line for cotton candy. She stepped behind him as they waited. He paused and looked back at her, furrowing his brows in exaggerated confusion, "I thought you hated rollercoaster rides. I always gotta beg you!"
She looked away from him, smiling like a fool as she lied, "I never said that...I love rollercoaster rides."
"Really?" He challenged. He leaned over, his breath warm against her ear amid the shrieks close by, he whispered, "You sure you're not sayin' that just cause I look extra handsome today?"
Her eyes widened in surprise, the audacity was breathtaking.
"You're full of it, huh?" She teased, folding her arms over her chest, "Not everything is about you and your face, Jackson."
"Ooh, we're usin' last names now, Ray? Watch me get cotton candy for one," He turned back to the front, fumbling for his wallet now that it was their turn. "Hey!" Ola protested, she lightly pulled at his shoulder, making him chuckle.
"Alright, alright," he conceded, flashing a smile at the vendor. "Two pink ones, please." He paid, handing her a massive, cloud-like spire of cotton candy. "Don't say I never give you nothin'."
She took it, the sugar was already melting on her tongue."It's the least you could do after that ride you made me suffer through."
"Girl, please." He clucked his tongue playfully.
He laced his fingers with hers with his other hand, sticky sweetness and all, and led her away from the stall. His eyes scanned the midway, landing on the chaotic arena of─
"Bumper cars," he declared, his grin turning wicked. "Oh no," Ola feigned a gasp.
The line was short. Michael practically vibrated with competitive energy as they waited. "I'm gonna wreck you, Ola."
"Big talk from a man in loafers," she shot back, eyeing his footwear.
When they were let in, he claimed a bright yellow car. Ola scrambled into a powder-blue one. The attendant slammed the gate shut. A low buzz filled the air as the power flowed to the ceiling grid.
For a second, there was peace. Then Michael's car shot backwards, spun, and slammed into her driver's side with a jarring THUMP. The collision made her shriek with pure delight and she fumbled with the handle of hers. "Hey! No fair!"
"All's fair!" he cackled, already reversing for another hit. For two minutes, it was a whirlwind. He was a magnet for her car, where she moved, he followed. She tried to flee, swerving wildly, but he always connected.
When the power cut and the cars coasted to a stop, she was breathless, her curls were a wild mess even in the ponytail. Michael was already out of his car, offering a hand. "Surrender?"
"Never," she gasped, taking it.
"You drive like Randy," he teased.
"You drive like a maniac!"
"Same thing I just said." He kept her hand in his as they exited the arena.
"I'm winnin' today," he announced, spotting the glowing entrance to the indoor arcade. "Gotta prove my dominance after that victory."
"That was not a victory! That was assault!" Ola protested.
"Victory," he insisted, pushing the door open. The digital bleeps of Pac-Man echoed from far away, the rat-a-tat of shooting games, the clang of tickets being spit out were all familiar sounds that made Ola feel nostalgic, for some odd reason.
He beelined for the claw machine with a tank of garish plushies, "For you," he said, inserting a quarter into it. He missed the first two times, his brow furrowed in concentration. On the third try, the claw descended, wobbled, and grabbed a neon-green stuffed snake by the tail. It dropped unceremoniously into the chute.
He presented it to her like a knight offering a slain dragon. "Your prize, m'lady." She hugged the tacky, soft toy, burying her face in its fur. "It's hideous," she giggled.
"It's got character. Like you." Then he dodged her playful swat, laughing. "C'mon, let's go take some pictures."
He tugged her toward a curtained Old-Time Photo Booth in the corner. When they got inside, he fumbled with a box of props: a feather boa, a plastic cigar, a fake mustache. "Here," he said, sticking the mustache above his lip. It was utterly ridiculous on his beautiful face. "How may I assist you madam?" He asked in that strange, terrible British accent he'd put on sometimes, and she immediately laughed, "Stop! You sound like a drunk Paul McCartney!"
"I look quite fabulous, thank you," he continued, doing a silly pose for a moment, before grinning and kissing her cheek.
Then they got ready. For the first picture, they posed, with him looking serious with the cigar, and her laughing and pointing at him.
Then they took the second picture, with the boa draped over both of their shoulders.
For the final picture, as the warning light beeped, he turned his head. She thought he was adjusting, but his lips landed softly on her cheek in another kiss, which made her eyes go a bit wide with surprise. "Ah!" She gasped.
The flash popped, blinding them both, Michael pulled back the curtain and they walked out. Ola was slightly dazed, her cheeks felt hot, and she couldn't help but reach up to touch them.
As they collected the strip of photos, Ola stared at it, and she felt warm inside. He tucked the photos into his jacket pocket. "My souvenirs," he said, his voice back to its easy tease, but his eyes held hers a second too long, and she looked away, suddenly shy.
Then the blaring attract mode of "Skee-Ball" caught Ola's eye. "Oh! I'm good at this one!" she grinned, now dragging him toward the lane, he let out a surprised chuckle.
Michael leaned against the machine, watching with a fond smirk as she clumsily rolled a wooden ball up the ramp. It clattered into the 50-point ring. "Not bad, baby," he teased, fishing for another quarter. "Should let me try after you. I'm good with my hands."
As he bent to insert the coin, a shadow fell over the lane.
"Need some help there?" It was some white guy.
He looked maybe a year or two older, with a sun-bleached surfer haircut and a weirdly confident smile. He had a token between his fingers.
"This game's rigged unless you know the trick. I could win you one of the big prizes up top." He gestured to the shelf of giant plushies. "Maybe even get you my number with it." He grinned, thinking he was slick.
Ola blinked, taken aback. "Oh, I'm okay, we're just-"
"She's with me," Michael interrupted.
He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. Oh. Oh, wow. Inside, Ola was doing tricks and cartwheels.
He's actually holding me close by my waist. In public. A giddy feeling rose in her chest, and she tried so hard not to let out a giggle. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop it. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her arm, or was that hers?
The guy's smile faltered. He held up his hands, then his blue eyes flicked between Michael's blank expression and Ola tucked securely against him. "My bad, man!" He backed up, grinning that stupid grin of his, before walking off.
The moment he was gone, the tension didn't leave Michael. He kept her anchored to him for a second longer, his fingers pressing into the fabric of her jacket. Ola's breath hitched, savoring the feeling of his touch.
Then, he seemed to remember himself. He let go, and the loss of his warmth made her pout a little.
"Here," he said, he placed the quarter in her palm and closed her fingers around it, and Ola sighed a little. It came out a little shaky. She looked down at the quarter, then at him.
"Okay," she said softly, a secret smile played on her lips as she turned to the lane.
She rolled the ball, but her mind wasn't on the game at all. It was replaying the feel of his arm around her, the low possessiveness in his voice, on a perfect, looping reel.
A bit later, the sky had deepened to a soft indigo, and the park's thousands of lights began to truly shimmer against it already.
Michael's hand found hers again, his grip loose now, his thumb stroking her knuckle absently. He was looking up, his gaze fixed on the Ferris Wheel as it turned its slow circle against the darkening sky. "That's next," he said.
But Ola's eyes had snagged on something else. Just past the wheel, under a canopy of fake weeping willows and fairy lights, was the entrance to "The Tunnel of Hearts." A sign painted with cheesy, cartoon cupids, read "A Romantic Voyage for Two!" The boats were shaped like white swans, they drifted out of a dark tunnel mouth and into the loading area.
"Ooooh," she breathed, her earlier giddy energy surged back full force at this. She tugged his hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Michael, look! The love boat ride! Can we do that instead? Pleeease?" She turned to face him, clasping his hand in her free one, her brown eyes were wide, and probably sparkling, she hoped in her mind.
He glanced from the majestic Ferris Wheel down to her pleading face. "I had a whole thing planned, Ola," he said, but there was no heat in it, just a soft exasperation.
She leaned in, squeezing his hands. "Please, baby?" she whispered, putting everything she had into the word.
He held out for three seconds, then his stern facade crumbled. A soft chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head. "Okay. Fine. You and your puppy eyes."
"Yes!" Ola did a little, involuntary victory skip right there on the midway, releasing his hands only to immediately clutch his arm, hugging it to her side. "You're the best! It's gonna be so romantic!"
He giggled at her antics, letting her drag him toward the willow trees. As they walked, he looked down at her. She was beaming, rambling about how cute the swan boats were.
He paid for their tickets, helped her into the white swan boat, and slid in beside her, his body close to hers in the small space. As the boat gave a gentle lurch and was carried by the current of the water, he couldn't help but smile wider.
The boat slid into the tunnel, and the loud sounds of the park, the screams, the music, the chatter...it all muffled into a distant dream for the both of them. The only sounds now were the gentle lap-lap of water, and the soft, tinny orchestral version of "Can't Help Falling in Love" echoing from hidden speakers.
It was cheesier than Ola had imagined, and she loved it. Blacklight murals of cartoon cupids glowed an eerie purple on the walls, a small mechanical bear in a rowboat jerked its head toward them, its voice box crackled, "Wise men say....only fools rush in..."
She let out a giggle, burying her face in Michael's shoulder. "It sounds like if Elvis swallowed helium! This is so silly."
"The Ferris Wheel would have been better," he murmured with playful annoyance, but his arm was already around her, pulling her closer.
As they drifted deeper, the decor shifted. The cupids gave way to a starry night ceiling, for dramatic effect, maybe.
Then Ola melted. The hopeless romantic in her was kicking her feet in joy. It felt like they were the only two people in the world. She leaned on him and breathed in the spicy-sweet scent of his cologne mixed with the night air on his jacket. One of his hands rested on her thigh, his thumb making absent, soothing circles.
Her mind went blank with bliss. No thoughts of work, or her usual anxieties, it was all so perfect.
She tilted her head up to whisper something, before she paused again, caught by the striking sight that was Michael's side profile. From the side, it was as if his jawline were the perfect angle of 90°, so sharp and defined. But what captivated her most was his big, doe-like eye, framed by his long lashes, and the light from the decorations made the deep brown of his iris... sparkle, in a way.
Then Michael turned his head ever so slightly, both eyes becoming visible and a fraction wider with easy, fond curiosity. "What?" He asked quietly. She realized that she was smiling up at him the whole time, and it made her blink, shyly averting her gaze.
"Nothing... it's just, you're very beautiful, Michael." Ola admitted, her tone filled with all the love her heart could muster. "You know that?"
When her gaze met his again, she noted with pleasant surprise that Michael's cheeks were... reddening. The noiret looked away, clearing his throat.
"Oh Michael," Ola cooed, slipping her hand under his arm to rest it over the middle of his chest, pressing it lightly against his varsity jacket. "Don't be embarrassed, I mean it."
" 'm not embarrassed." Michael mumbled.
"Then why're you all red and stuff? Tryna match your jacket, or were you goin' for a tomato?" She teased lightly, tugging on his jacket just a bit.
"Don't tease me, Minnie," the endearment slipped out with a breathy, flustered tone of voice, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
"Can't help it," Ola giggled. "You're too adorable... my little Mickey."
Just then, Michael's smile softened into something slight as he leaned in slowly, his eyes fluttering shut the same time as Ola's. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, at first. Then, a second kiss that was just a bit deeper, with Ola's arms coming up to loop around his neck, a soft sigh leaving her while Michael's hand tightened a little on her waist.
They had barely realized that the boat had drifted into the brightly lit unloading area until it gave a soft jolt, causing the couple to pull away for just a moment even as they held onto each other.
The attendant offered a hand. "Fun ride?" she asked brightly.
You have no idea, Ola thought with a soft laugh under her breath.
Michael stepped out first, all easy grace. He turned, offering Ola his hand. "Always is," he said, his voice smooth as honey. His eyes twinkled with playful affection, meant only for her. "Gave us a chance to see some stars."
Ola took his hand, her own trembling slightly. As he pulled her up, her knees nearly gave way. She stumbled forward a step, bumping into his chest with a soft oof.
"Whoa there, space cadet," he smirked at her, his hands coming up to steady her hips. "Still dizzy from the 'stars'?"
She looked up at him, her vision slightly hazy. Then a dopey, unabashed smile spread across her face. "Mhmmm," she hummed, leaning into him, she wasn't even trying to stand on her own. "Your fault."
"My fault?" he teased. "You're the one who begged to go on the cheesy love boat. This is your karma."
"Best karma ever," she sighed dreamily, resting her head against his shoulder as they walked. She nuzzled the soft fabric of his varsity jacket. "You're so warm. And you smell good."
"You're so gone," Michael looked incredulous, as if he wasn't responsible for her delirium. "Girl, what's wrong with you?"
Then the smirk returned. "C'mon, let's get you some sugar. You need to come back down to Earth." He nudged her towards a colourful cupcake stand nearby.
"But I don't wanna come down," she pouted. But she let him lead her there anyway.
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