SUGAR TALKING PART² ᝰ.ᐟ
michael jackson x sunshine!reader
⤷ click here for part 1
𖦹 summary : michael stops hiding how much he cares for you. everyone else had noticed except... you.
𖦹 tags : fluff, slow burn(?)
𖦹 word count : 2.8k
𖦹 a/n : i did NOT expect you guys to love this one-shot so much, WHEW! actually ran to write the second part… posting side stories maybe within this week !!! i very much appreciate all the likes, comments, and reblogs !! (THANK YOU FOR 1K LIKES!!!) enjoy reading🌞🤍
⤷ masterlist.
michael jackson had always been affectionate. everyone around him knew that. but at some point, he'd stop treating you the way he treated everyone else. the problem was... he didn't realize he was doing it until after he'd done it. "don't do anything obvious today.' he nodded to himself. michael reminded himself as soon as he stepped out of his dressing room. act normal. no unnecessary touching. no fussing over you. no carrying things you could clearly carry yourself. no– "good morning, michael!" you appeared around the corner carrying what looked like an entire mountain of freshly pressed stage costumes balanced in your arm. "hey, good morning–" kiss! michael nearly jumped out of his skin when you leaned and kissed his cheek. you smiled so brightly he forgot every promise he'd made to himself. before you could take another step, his hand wrapped gently around your wrist without thinking. "careful." you blinked. "hm?" he pointed down at the floor, where a loose cable stretched across the hallway. "you would've tripped." you looked down. "oh! i didn't even see that." "i know." he stepped over the cable first, and guided you gently while you quietly followed him. only after both of you were safely across did michael realize... he was still holding your hand. you looked down at your joined hands. then back at him– and michael prepared himself. 'here it comes.' but instead, you smiled. "oh. thanks!" then you cheerfully continued walking as if absolutely nothing unusual had happened. you happily thought– 'michael's just... the nicest person i've ever met.' while michael just stood there for a minute. he looked down at his hand that held yours seconds ago. "...great."
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it didn't stop there. because apparently michael's self-control had decided to take a week off. you squeezed through between the crowd, carrying a clipboard, measuring tape, and what looked like half the wardrobe department. you were about to walk into a stack of lighting equipment while you were reading your clipboard. "–careful there." his hand would rest lightly against the small of your back and gently steer you in the other direction. "oh! thanks, michael!" you hurried away. michael stared after you. '...i really have to stop doing that.' across the room, one of the dancers slowly lowered his bottle of water and turned to the other dancer beside him to see if they both witnessed the same thing. "...did he just..." another nodded. "mhm."
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half an hour later, you proudly marched over holding your clipboard after you'd successfully repaired three stage jackets in record time. "i did it!" you looked so pleased with yourself that michael smiled before he could stop himself, and without even thinking about it– pat. "good job." pat... pat. he gently ruffled your hair. you beamed. "i worked really hard!" "i know you did." he smiled. "i'm proud of you." you positively glowed. "i knew you'd be! thanks, michael!" then you happily skipped away. michael continued walking, exactly five steps in before he stopped– "did i just..." he slowly looked at his own hand. "...pat her?" a nearby makeup artist walked by michael before slowly stopping. "mike." "hm?" "y'know damn well you don't do that to anybody else." michael frowned. "i don't?" "no." "really? "...really."
𖦹 and somehow... it only got worse from there. one afternoon, you were carrying heavy costume bags, and michael happened to walk past. he barely glanced at you before his feet changed direction on their own. "i'll carry those." you looked up. "oh! i've got them." "i know." he took the bags anyway, carrying the heavier garment bags from your arms before you even finished speaking. "michael–" "you've already carried enough this morning." "really, it's fine! i don't mind at all." "i know you don't." he said, and before he could think about it– "...but i do." the words slipped out before he could catch them. you only smiled. "...that's really nice of you! thanks." you happily adjusted the now much lighter bag in your arms and continued walking beside him as if nothing unusual had happened. michael stared straight ahead. '...i'm hopeless.'
𖦹 one afternoon, one of the dancers peeked into the wardrobe room with a dramatic sigh. "hey, sunshine?" you looked up from steaming clothes. "hi! you need something?" "actually... we wanted to ask you a small favor." "of course. what is it?" "...could you ask michael if rehearsal can end a little early today?" you blinked, but still smiling. "why me?" "because he'll listen to you." you frowned and tilted your head in confusion. "hm? but he listens to everybody...?" silence. "...sure he does." you smiled. "okay, i'll go ask!" michael was in the middle of discussing about choreography when he spotted you approaching. his face immediately softened. "hey." "hi, michael!" you parked the rack beside him. "i brought the stage costumes!" "thank you." you smiled proudly. "oh! um..." you hesitated politely, and he gave you his whole attention immediately. "what is it?" "...the dancers were wondering..." you pointed behind you without looking. "...if rehearsal could maybe end a little earlier today?" michael's head tilted slightly, and his eyes slowly lifted over your shoulder. behind you, every single dancer suddenly became very interested in stretching. one suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. another gave michael the tiniest, most shamelessly thumbs up. michael raised one eyebrow. "you sent her?" the dancers smiled innocently. "we have no idea what you're talking about." michael let out the quietest sigh. "...i'm afraid that's not possible, honey." and the dancers' shoulders collectively slumped. you looked back at him. "oh..." but you smiled anyway. "that's okay. you've probably got lots of work to do. we can stay longer if we need to." michael froze. because you weren't pouting, you weren't trying to convince him, and you just smiled at him with those impossibly trusting eyes. "..." he looked back at the dancers, and one of them silently clasped his hands together in a prayer. another even mouthed the word– 'please.' michael closed his eyes for half a second. "...fine." the rehearsal room erupted. "YES!" "we're free!" "THANK YOU, SUNSHINE!" you even jumped a little. "oh wow!" you laughed. "they're really happy!" michael rubbed a hand over his face, already smiling. "...apparently." you beamed at him. "thanks, michael! great job today." before he could even respond– you rose onto your toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. mwah! then you wheeled the costume rack away and hurried off to tell the wardrobe, completely unaware of what had just happened. he touched his cheek. he watched you disappear around the corner, and one dancer had wandered over to him. "y'know she has absolutely no idea, right?" he sighed and smiled helplessly. "...she has to notice eventually." he said, but not in an impatient way– no. it was more like... 'at some point she'll realize i don't do this with anybody else...' right? except you didn't. if anything... you became even more convinced michael was simply the nicest person alive.
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it became almost entertaining. one time, you reached for a heavy costume rack. "i got it." michael had already lifted one end. "oh– thanks!" another time, you went to the break room and saw the stash of candies you left just... gone. "...my candies are gone." you frowned. "has anybody seen it?" michael looked suspiciously occupied with absolutely nothing. you raised your eyebrow. "...michael." "hm?" "have you seen them?" "no." "oh... really?" "they've been replaced." "with what?" he pointed toward the table. there was a banana, an apple, and a little container of cut strawberries. you stared. "my candies became healthy...?" michael's shoulders shook suspiciously. "...magic." you gasped. "woah. i've never seen a fruit do that before." one of the dancers nearly choked trying not to laugh.
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the following week... the bad tour was approaching, which meant everybody at the studio was busy. but it was also the first time since you'd started working together that michael noticed something else. you looked tired. not just sleepy, but exhausted. the smile was still there. you still remembered everyone's costumes, still thanked every crew member, and still apologized to a mannequin after accidentally bumping into it. but every now and then, you would stop moving like your brain had briefly left the room. you would move slower, blink longer, and pause more often. michael frowned. something wasn't right. he quietly walked over to you. "you alright there?" you looked up at michael, before nodding. "mhm!" "you look tired." "i am." you admitted, then smiled. "but that's okay. i'll sleep tonight." "promise?" "...probably." you hesitated a bit. "probably?" you laughed. "i'll try!" michael frowned.
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an hour later, you disappeared. nobody really questioned it, because the wardrobe department was always running somewhere at the studio. michael happened to walk past one of the quieter backstage hallways, and there you were– you were standing. a clipboard hugged against your chest, your head resting lightly against the wall, and your eyes were closed. you'd fallen asleep... standing up. the measuring tape still hung loosely around your neck, and one hand loosely held the pencil. michael's eyes widened. "...honey." he called out gently, but there was no response. he stepped closer, and the clipboard slowly started slipping from your arms. before it almost hit the floor, he caught it. you blinked awake. you rubbed your eyes and looked around. "oh!" you smiled. "hi, michael." "...were you...?" "–no, i was just resting my eyes," you yawned halfway through answering. "while standing against the wall?" "it was available." michael had to bite the inside of his cheek. 'you need to sleep." "i'm okay." "you're not. you fell asleep standing." "i only meant to blink." "honey..." you smiled sheepishly. "it happens?" "it's not healthy." you reached for your clipboard. "i should head back." michael gently held onto it. "...michael?" "come with me." "hm?" "this way." "but–" "this way." you followed him, mostly because it was him. he led you into his dressing room, and he pointed at the couch that sat against the wall. "sit." you looked at the couch. then at him. "...but the costumes. "they'll survive." "i really should–" "sit." his voice was still gentle and warm, but there was something underneath it. you blinked, then sat down. "okay." michael nodded, then disappeared into the hallway. you waited for approximately... a minute. "hey, would you look at that–! i feel better already." you stood up, picked up your clipboard, and started walking toward the door. you opened the door and jumped a bit when michael was at the door. he looked directly at you; you slowly smiled. "...hi." "weren't you sitting?" "i was done with resting." "...after a minute?" "it was a very good, solid minute." michael stared. then sighed through his nose, trying very hard not to laugh. he gently turned you around by the shoulders and walked you back to the couch. you obediently shuffled backward and sat down. then immediately stood again. "i really think–" "sit." there you sat. "...can i ask why?" "so you can sleep." "but i don't think i'll fall asleep." "you fell asleep standing, honey." "...that's fair." you look down and fiddle with your hands on your lap. you looked toward the door again, and michael didn't even look up from the clipboard notes in his hands. "don't." "i wasn't." "you were thinking about it." "...maybe." you sighed dramatically. "everyone's working, and i'm not. i feel bad..." "i know." you yawned so hard your eyes watered. minutes later, michael looked up, and you were finally asleep. you were curled into the corner of the couch, one hand still loosely holding your measuring tape, and the clipboard balanced on your lap like you'd fallen asleep mid-thought. michael had to physically look away and smiled.
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about half an hour later, you stirred in your sleep. blink. blink. "oh." you looked around. "i slept." michael looked up calmly. "you did." you gasped and stood up abruptly. "what time is it?!" "relax." "i have work!" michael immediately pointed back toward the couch. "sit." you froze mid-step. sat right back down obediently. then you tilted your head. "wait... why did i listen so quickly?" "because i told you to." you stood again, but this time with more determination. "i really have to go." "you need sleep." "i already slept." "for less than an hour." "that's practically a whole nap!" michael raised one eyebrow. you looked at him with those impossibly earnest eyes. "my supervisor might get upset." "they won't be." "but how do you know they won't be upset?" a pause. "honey, your supervisor reports to me. you are going to sleep." "oh... oh." you stared. "right. you are." you pointed at him. michael laughed. "that's actually really helpful information." michael looked away with a smile that was getting harder and harder to hide. "get another hour to sleep." "okay." you curled back up on the couch without another complaint. within a minute– you were asleep again, but less tense. michael quietly closed the dressing room door most of the way before heading back toward rehearsal. one of the dancers spotted him. "where's sunshine?" "asleep." "you actually got her to stop working?" "someone has to look after her."
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it had become almost impossible to miss that people had just simply accepted it. if you walked into a room, michael would notice. if your hands were full, he was already carrying half. if you were tired, he knew. at some point, michael had stopped catching himself. it had become so natural to him that he no longer realized he was doing any of it. everyone else had noticed– except you. one afternoon, you walked into the rehearsal room carrying a paper bag. "i brought brownies for everyone!" cheers erupted around the room, and you happily passed the brownies out. when you reached michael– "ah-ah!" you gently pulled the brownie away from him. michael blinked. "i made yours seperately." "...seperately?" "mhm!" you reached deep into the paper bag for the small container and gave it to him. "i made yours with less sugar." michael looked down at the small container you gave him. then to you. "really?" you nodded. "i remembered what you told me." you smiled so simply. "you said you don't like things too sweet." "so while i was baking..." you shrugged sheepishly. "...i set a little bit of batter aside just for you." he looked at you, and for a moment... his heart genuinely forgot what it was supposed to be doing. you had stood in your kitchen the night before, mixing brownie batter, and somewhere midway– you'd thought of him. not because you had to. not because he'd asked. but because you simply remembered. his fingers curled ever so slightly around the little box. "...you remembered that?"
"mhm!" you smiled. "i remember lots of things." you said, and there wasn't even the slightest hint of embarrassment. you said it so matter-of-factly, as though remembering what people liked was simply... what you did. michael felt something warm settle quietly in his chest. he looked down for just a second, hiding the helpless smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "that's..." he let out the smallest laugh. "...that's very thoughtful of you." your face lit up immediately. "i'm glad! hopefully you like them." "i will." his voice came out softer than he'd intended. you smiled one more time before turning to leave– then his fingers caught your sleeve before he even realized he'd reached out. you stopped immediately. "hm?" "..." he hesitated for a moment. a loose strand had escaped your ponytail. "hold still." "oh." you obediently froze from where you stood. he tucked the strand carefully behind your ear. "...there." you smiled up at him with that bright, uncomplicated smile. "thank you." "it's no problem." for a second, neither of you moved. then you laughed softly. "you're really kind, michael." he rubbed the back of his neck, almost shy. "i try." you shook your head. "no. i mean..." your smile softened. "i think you're one of the sweetest people i've ever met." the room went completely still, and michael forgot how to breathe. across the rehearsal room, at least three dancers slowly turned to stare at him. one of them mouthed– 'say something.' michael opened his mouth, but nothing came out. like his brain apparently decided to stop functioning at the moment. "anyway!" you waved. "i've still got work to do. good luck, everyone!" then you skipped away, humming happily to yourself. the silence lasted for a moment before one of the dancers wandered over, folding his arms. "hey, mike?" "...hm?" "how much more obvious can you possibly be?" and honestly... michael doesn't even know anymore. he'd stopped trying to hide it, and maybe he doesn't mind anymore. it was not because he'd given up– because suppressing it had become impossible. if loving you looked obvious, then maybe... that was alright. and somehow you still hadn't noticed.
a/n : update.... i will need to write a third part. i don't want you guys waiting so i'll post part 2 then HOPEFULLY part 3 will be the last one. TT i'm still planning to write side stories tho!!
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