; in which you make grammys!michael feel so good to calm his nerves
— you could see it written all over michael’s face. he didn’t know whether he should love being here or absolutely hate it. the nerves, the anxiety, all of it was getting to him, the pride he should be feeling being completely overshadowed by the anxiety
he kept trying to meet your gaze, in the meanwhile you were trying not to be rude, conversing with those around you, smiling, laughing, joining in. you didn’t even notice the poor little puppy eyes michael was shooting you from juuust right next to you
and he did just look so pitiful, glasses covering half his face, lower lip bit between his teeth in a way which to most would be attractive, but you knew your mikey, you knew that was a sign of worry. you pressed your thumb to his lower lip, removing it from his teeth’s hold, “w’sup, baby?”
“oh nothin’ much, mama” his voice was so quiet and soft and sweet, but tinged with that little bit of nerves that read in the way his hand clenched tighter at your skirts, trying to ground himself. hardly even flinched when you gripped his chin, forcing his eyes to meet yours, “i said what’s up?” you whispered, the sound of your voice alone clearly already starting to calm him as he leant forward imperceptibly, “go on, use your big words, mikey”
he swallowed at that, and you could see his big bambi eyes scanning the room from behind his glasses, anxious as the jewelled glove scrunched itself tighter in your skirts, “m’ just nervous, is all” he muttered, cheeks all rosy as he tried to duck his head away from yours, rubbing at the back of his neck, “and what do you expect me to do about that?” you whispered back, pushing his own hand away as you slid your fingers into his curls at the back of his nape, twisting them carefully so not to disturb his burn, but just enough to make him hiss. not in pain. no.
“please” he mumbles, cheeks growing even rosier under his sunglasses
and that’s how you ended up here <3
his head dropped down onto your collarbone, hushed little pants falling from his lips like he couldn’t dare to hold them in anymore as you worked your hand up and down his pretty dick. and it was so pretty, achingly hard, smooth, curved, the pretty tip flushed a beautifully deep shade of red, disappearing every time your hand slipped over it to work at his head
“feels good, huh?” you whispered into his ear, free hand tipping under his chin to force his eyes to meet yours, smiling at the sight in front of you. poor baby was on the verge of tears, sunglasses discarded onto the toilet seat of the small cubicle you were locked in, him pushed against the wall as you leant against him, jerking his dick to the point where he’s nearly crying, “huh?” you urged
“y-yeah, yeah mama, feels so—“ his eyes fluttered shut, cheeks pink in embarrassment as his hips twitched, strained from not wanting to fuck your fist, he could never be so vulgar! but you could. your heel made its way onto his toe, pressing down gently to elicit that little bit of pain you knew he loved, needed it to ground himself, “i know baby, i know”
you could feel your grip on his dick loosening with the slickness of his pre, pearly white leaking from his throbbing tip as he hid his face into your neck once more, his hands coming around your shoulders in some bizarre sort of a hug, crushing you against him as he groaned — well, sobbed — with the knot forming in his stomach,
“fuck my hand, mikey, make yourself feel good baby” you stepped back, watching him — flushed, beautiful, shy. you just nodded. he, of course, obeyed, whimpering — just a little, before his hips started to rut into your hand. and poor baby, you could just see the moment it set in for him, how good it felt to fuck your fist like he wanted to
his face contorted in utter passion, his light stage makeup starting to sweat down his face as he blubbered and whimpered and sobbed as he started to fuck your fist harder
and then, he came
and it was beautiful
hot pearly ropes shooting up your wrist, down onto the floor, his big hands coming up to cover his face because he was just so so embarrassed. and he looked so cute, hips n dick still twitching as he rode out the last of his orgasm
“i can’t go back out there” you heard him groan from behind his palms as you were busy gathering all his cum from where it’d splattered across your wrist, you just hummed and caught his face once more
making him watch as your cum soaked finger slid into your mouth. his dick twitched violently against your thigh
“bet you’re not nervous now”
“now come on, i wanna watch my man sweep the grammys!”
