Landmines Do Not Come in Different Flavours

By Nara Merald

Summary: Landmines don’t come in different flavours, but Sarah assures me seduction does. Now if only we can convince James… [MFM/FMM]

Disclaimers: This story is slash and het. This chapter is predominantly het. It’s all kinds of MFM or MMF or even FMM. Deal.
I do not own Cruisers (though I partake in them regularly) or Bluetooth.

Patrick calls Sarah Harvano “Sarah” and Sarah Lawrence “Saral”
Heath calls them by their last names
Nick calls Sarah Harvano “Sarah” (or sometimes “Wench”) and Sarah Lawrence is “Harry”.

Chapter 3 Recap
Sarah Harvano is slowly dying from sexual frustration to the point where she’s dreaming about it and has just realised she finds her best friend Nick Bandell extremely attractive in the pants region.

Vito Seralakis visits Warren and Adam and lets them know he is moving permanently to stay with them.

Nick talks himself into a job at a sex shop called 69, where the owner Jarrod only gives him a job to perve on Sarah.

Vito treats the gang to dinner at a restaurant and the usual shenannigans occur, Nick has a touching family moment.

Chapter Four: Chemistry

Sarah, Sunday Morning

Blink. Blink. It hurts to open my eyes, and I get the feeling that I drank enough last night that I should really not bother to lift my head. My mouth feels uncomfortably furry and tastes kind of sour. My hair feels matted to my head, and then I rub the sleep from my eyes, they come away mascara blackened enough that I probably look like a racoon about now. With a groan, I slowly lift my head and almost vomit, before deciding yes, I really DO need to vomit, and race to the bathroom before dropping to my knees and hurling a whole lot of gross yellow liquid into the toilet bowl. Thankfully, it's not chunky (yes, I have thrown up before after I'd eaten something that clearly didn't agree with me, and literally almost choked on my own vomit) and I decide the best thing for it is to have a shower, because I feel gross.

As I awkwardly shuck off my clothes, I wait for the shower to heat and then step into its blissful embrace, which beats my headache into submission quite a lot. It's about then that my remaining brain cells rally and the memories start to trickle into my conscious mind as I moan at my own stupidity.

Wow. About last night: walking around with lipstick all over my face? Not hot. Several people seeing my lacy purple underwear? Not hot. Having James look at me like a total freak when I was dancing on a table... not hot.

Kissing Nick?
Oh yeah, that was hot.

Nick, Previous Friday

To date, I have witnessed the largest vibrator known to man (nicknamed the “Big Boy”), a rather nervous, wisely man show me a photo of a guy fucking a limbless woman (hilarious! I got him to Bluetooth it to me!), two extremely old ladies purchasing riding crops (Whip it good!) and what could only be an extremely cheap looking prostitute who pulled out a dick shaped lollipop from god knows where and sucked on it while I rang up her purchases, winking at me.

Oh, it’s the end of my first week at 69, and I’ve come across all of that in two working days of 5 mere hours. Brilliant.

What’s even better is that for the last 2 hours of both shifts, the Wench came in, and the Lech (aka boss Jarrod) didn’t say anything because he wanted to ogle her. I think she was kind of disturbed, but hid it well, persevering to remind me about the party tomorrow night. It’s going to be a sweet party! But anyway, back to 69…

I spend a good amount of time winking roguishly to up my sales, perusing the (often hilarious) wares, and not really doing a whole lot else (aka, not vacuuming…)
“NICK! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO VACUUM THE FLOOR!”
(not dusting…)
“WHAT IS THIS SHIT ALL OVER THE SHELVES?”
(not pricing)
“I DON’T EVEN FUCKING KNOW HOW MUCH THESE ARE, LADY!”
(not spray & wiping)
“OH GOD! I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET THAT FUCKTARD JACK OFF ALL OVER OUR COUNTERS! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!”

But, at the end of the day, all that matters is the Wench’s sweet, sweet bounty. I love this job.

Sarah, Saturday Night

Alcohol is running through my veins; I can practically see it in pretty colours from cocktails and cruisers, drifting along my vein lines like liquid lightening rainbows. I like liquid lightening rainbows! No... I love liquid lightening rainbows.
I can see Nick's amused face, because he's not quite so drunk and of course he doesn't understand just why it is so important that I am drunk around him. So I don't take the boundaries of our friendship a little too far and jump him because I've suddenly realised he's hot. I always knew he was good looking, but to be attracted to him at a time when I'm practically ready to rape a tree to get a little action?!

Lifting the bottle to my lips, I realise the cocktail I have in my right hand doesn't burn so much going down anymore. I'd grabbed the cruiser (sugar water) as an after-drink, something to take away the burning sensation caused by a little too much vodka (thankyou Patrick...) in the cocktail. Speaking of Patrick, he's drunk and hilarious, and I laugh at him because he's trying to tightrope walk... on a table... without rope. Sez's chilling with Warren, Adam appears to be trying to challenge some douche from class to a drink off, and I honestly wonder whether or not he'll win...

I think the most important thing to me right now is that James is here, because even if I scare him off, at least I'll have some sort of relief from this endless feeling of suffocation.

I'm wearing red lipstick tonight, not a garish red but a hot watermelon red, with gloss over the top. The colour of drunken desperation! And make no mistake about it, I am drunk, because I've accidently been pouring my cocktail onto the floor for the past two seconds. Those martini glasses look cool, I'll give you that, but have you ever tried to keep liquid in them when drunk? Yeah, that's what I thought! Nick is eyeing me again, as I decide that a cruiser is the way to go next, because not only are they hard to spill, I think the long neck of the bottle is very sexual. Sometimes I think I live a sad, deprived life.

Desperate. Sarah. Desperate... these words don't go hand in hand! Or bottle in bottle?

Sarah Lawrence comes up to me and drags her cocktail to her lips as if she can't stand the taste.

"What up?" I think I'm slurring a little.
"Oh nothing..." She sighs a little, and I take her at face value and nod simply.

"You're right! It's not nothing!" Sez shouts, and I take another drink.
"I need your help, and only you will do! But you can't tell Nick!" Sez points at me, dead serious, and I grin breezily, instructing her to grab us a few beverages on the way outside. Of course, we're going outside for privacy reasons, and I am a little surprised to note Sez's grabbed a whole bottle of vodka and a bottle of... red cordial? Even kinda drunk, I can't see this ending well. Still, I've never been known to refuse free alcohol and I don't plan to make a habit of it.

"You have to promise... PROMISE you can't tell anyone..." Sez moans, pouring herself a shot of vodka, grimacing at the taste then grimacing at the too-sweet straight cordial. She shudders a little before giving the bottle to me, and can I just say... it is disgusting, both the cheap, cheap vodka and the sickly red cordial which alternately makes me want to throw up and want to run around and do star jumps.
Sarah takes another shot and uses the liquid courage to speak up.
"I don't make any noise," Sez states, like I have a single clue what she's talking about. (I don't.)

"Well, good on you..." I offer hopefully, realising this was indeed the wrong thing to say because she's looking at me to try and work out if I'm mocking her.
"During sex... when I... when it... I... I don't make a noise," She mutters, embarrassed. I sit back, surprised. Not make a noise?
"So when you... when you orgasm, you just... lay there?" I ask incredulously, wondering how awkward that would have to be.

"No! I like... I'm not like a corpse, jeez. I just... I don't make a noise! I just don't!" Sez looks completely forlorn, and I'm just floored. What do you say to that?
"Have you tried? Like, tried moaning? Or screaming?" I ask curiously, watching as she shots the vodka again, looking, if possible, more depressed.

"He asked if I was trying to joke... he said I sounded like I was trying to impersonate a porn star and failing," Sarah grimaces, and I have to grimace too. Jeez...

"What do I do?" She whispers to me.
"You're asking me?" I cry, wondering where on earth she got that idea.

"Well... you've had sex a lot more than me!" Sez declares, and I'm not sure whether I should feel insulted or not. With whom, have I been having sex, exactly? The annoyance is simply amplified when I realise she is getting some, and I'm not, and I still have to deal with the shit that goes with it!

I take a shot of the vodka, shudder at the cordial and then pass the bottle to Sez, who's so far on about double the shots I've done. Good, I drank more than her to start off with.
"Well..." I finally ask, "has he stopped sleeping with you?" To my surprise, she shakes her head no.
'Well then what's your problem?!" I practically (drunkenly) explode.

"Yeah... Well... I guess if you look at it that way..." Sez shots again, and I sigh out into the darkness, reaching out to the vodka bottle. Man, now I need it more than ever. I am going to get trashed tonight.

Nick
I don't think I've been more amused for years... the past few days, the Wench's drunkenness... it's all due to her not getting any! Harry's too drunk to put two and two together when Sarah's using that tone of voice, but she practically yelled at Harry. Plus, who would have ever figured Harry for a silent one? It's times like these I'm really glad I've adapted to hiding in bushes, and don't inadvertently give myself away.

It’s time to plan…

Sarah

Dancing on a table is fun! Dirty dancing on a table with Harry is super fun. Winking at Warren not-so-subtly is fun. I’m kicking my legs out and my skirt is flying everywhere and…
“Nice knickers Sarah!” Some asshole shouts. I give him the finger, but right as this happens, my high heeled foot slips and I begin to topple off of the table with a shriek. I don’t even register what happens next except that somehow, I’m lying on the ground on top of James, who is groaning in pain and half heartedly trying to get me off of him.
“Heyyy Jamesie!” I wink, but start to slide off of him to the side. I half see Harry climbing off the table and rushing over to me, before pulling down my skirt. I guess I was flashing a few people… thank god I’m wearing hot (yet not see through) underwear!

I think maybe I should care, but I just can’t bring myself to!
“Get off me...” James pushes me away gently, looking kind of horrified, and despite myself, I frown as I pull myself to my feet.
That asshole. I’ll never find a guy at this rate! How come everyone else has found someone but me?

I see Nick look at me, and I think he can practically read my mind, but showing some sense for once, he lets me go as I wobble out the back again, this time to drink on my own. I sit down on the veranda, sliding haphazardly down the pole and hoping I’m not getting splinters that I’m too drunk to feel.
Somehow, with that one look from James, I feel like I’m not good enough, and that makes me feel like shit. With a sigh, I continue drinking, ignoring the cold air.

“You know alcohol is a depressant…” Nick’s voice floats out to me.
“So what…” I shrug.

“It’s not going to make you feel better,” he says knowingly.

“So you can read my mind now…” I grumble, letting him sit down beside me without a fight.

“James doesn’t know how to roll with us yet. Ignore him,” Nick advises.

“Yeah…” I mutter back dully, unresisting as Nick pries the bottle from my hands.

“Sarah…” Nick begins, and I look at him, somewhat unused to him actually calling me Sarah as opposed to “Wench”.
“Stop me if you think this is a bad idea…” Nick grins, before placing his palm on my thigh.

What?!
I just stare at him drunkenly in surprise, unable to even work out what’s going on. He gives me a moment to protest, before he grins and moves closer to me, his hand so warm and I can’t stop looking at it…

It’s about now that my heart kicks into overdrive, and I swear if Nick stops now I’m going to bottle him. Nick tugs me around so I’m sitting with my legs out, facing him. I’d drunkenly sprawled out, legs apart, and he takes advantage of that, moving between my legs to approach me.

“I think we’d have great sex,” Nick grins, and I feel like screaming “YES! FINALLY!”, my breath hitching as I simply watch him almost helplessly. His face is so close to mine, and my eyes are wide open, staring at him, unable to look away.

“But…” Nick pauses in disappointment, and I swear my heart stops, “I couldn’t take advantage of a lady when she’s drunk.” He chides me, and it’s hot because his voice is husky even when he’s treating me like a 3 year old.
“Oh hell yes you can!” I slur, and he laughs.

“Mhmmm how do you even know we’d work well together?” Nick’s dirty blonde hair is begging to be touched, and I can’t help myself. His eyes close for a moment as I run my fingers through it.

We stay there in silence for a moment, just our breathing, and me stroking his hair, one of his hands still on my thigh. I almost go crazy when his eyes open, and with a smirk, his hand mimics my hands, stroking, lazily drawing circles.

Funny thing is, it’s not even that high up, not anywhere unacceptable… but it still manages to be totally sexual.
“I think we could test ourselves, don’t you think, Sarah?” Nick whispers, his face getting closer. What’s happened to me? I’m letting myself be seduced rather than doing the seducing?!
And when I don’t move back, or protest, Nick moves forward and his lips touch mine. It’s light at first, a fleeting touch, but I open my mouth almost straight away, wanting more from the kiss. It’s hot, and I’m burning up, I’m drunk, and his hand is setting my leg on fire. I’m trying to hold myself back to avoid trying to crawl into him, but I think he’s almost addicting, and I really like the taste of him. I don’t want the kiss to end when he leans back with almost a chuckle.
“I think that answers the question on whether we have chemistry,” Nick is still regaining his breath, and I for one, am pleased at that.

Suddenly Nick stands, ready to head back inside. Blue eyes gleaming with amusement, and maybe something more, he extends a hand to me, and we stagger a little in our attempt to re-enter the party.

For someone who normally does the seducing, I think I could get used to being seduced…

Sarah, Sunday Morning

Blink. Blink. It hurts to open my eyes, and I get the feeling that I drank enough last night that I should really not bother to lift my head. My mouth feels uncomfortably furry and tastes kind of sour. My hair feels matted to my head, and then I rub the sleep from my eyes, they come away mascara blackened enough that I probably look like a racoon about now. With a groan, I slowly lift my head and almost vomit, before deciding yes, I really DO need to vomit, and race to the bathroom before dropping to my knees and hurling a whole lot of gross yellow liquid into the toilet bowl. Thankfully, it's not chunky (yes, I have thrown up before after I'd eaten something that clearly didn't agree with me, and literally almost choked on my own vomit) and I decide the best thing for it is to have a shower, because I feel gross.

As I awkwardly shuck off my clothes, I wait for the shower to heat and then step into its blissful embrace, which beats my headache into submission quite a lot. It's about then that my remaining brain cells rally and the memories start to trickle into my conscious mind as I moan at my own stupidity.

Wow. About last night: walking around with lipstick all over my face? Not hot. Several people seeing my lacy purple underwear? Not hot. Having James look at me like a total freak when I was dancing on a table... not hot.

Kissing Nick?
Oh yeah, that was hot.

A/N

Before you review and cry “You repeated that last bit about Sarah’s hangover!” it’s deliberate! I wanted it at the start AND the end. So bite me if you don’t like it. Yeah, that’s right, I’d like to see you try and find out where I live.
(I’m tired, and possibly a little crazeh right now).

And it’s short, and kinda dodgy. That sucks. Life sucks.

That limbless picture? Yeah, I have it. It’s full on. My perverted co worker took a copy of it from some guy’s photos and sent it to me and Kuradok Evangeline. (We work in a photo lab, it’s amazing the kind of hardcore amateur porn you come across).
My reason for not updating? Primarily, I’m slack and had zero inspiration for this.
Secondarily, I am working 2 jobs and going to uni part time, so that sucks ass for any kind of “me” time. My new job is less than awesome. I’m so tired and bleh.

Ha ha, sif I haven’t updated for about 6 months. Go team… *shifty eyes*
I’ll be quicker next time, promise! *Shifty eyes again*

xoxo Naros the 3rd