1984 grammys au because I needed soft michael jackson energy
Fluff, slow burn, and mutual pinning <3
no smut this chapter 😖
It isn’t your first time hosting an award show, but this one is significantly different. The 26th Annual Grammy Awards were a step up from your last hosting job. You felt like you finally made it as a comedian. You weren’t tied down to your SNL past anymore. You glided forward, each step more poised than the last. Walking down a red carpet was something you had gotten accustomed to as of lately. Your good friend, Eddie Murphy, follows behind you. He was working with you to host this year’s Grammys. “Should we go for an interview down there?” His eyes wandered down a few steps, right in front of a row of flashing cameras, to a short and soft featured woman holding a microphone. “If you’d like, doing the interview would be okay with me.” Without a second thought, Eddie grabbed your hand. He walked with you carefully down each step. His hands were strategically placed for the cameras. One holding yours. The other lingered on your back for support as he helped you down the stairs.
Your gaze wandered across the rows and waves of celebrities lining the red carpet. One in particular caught your eye, Michael Jackson. You were fond of his public persona, yes, but you were never the type of person to judge before meeting someone. For the rest of the night, you sought him out. Stolen glances, friendly smiles, and lingering stares were common for the night between you two. You tried to be subtle about your desire to speak with him, but your facade of secret intimacy came crashing down as an interviewer asked a knowing question. “Who are we planning to go home with tonight? Lots of men, I’m expecting. Maybe a certain man?” You smiled innocently. An airy laugh escaped your lips as you spoke, “I am not sure about that one, but I will definitely be at an after party.” “We have been watching, and it seems you have an eye out for Michael. Is there any truth to that?” Your playful banter shifted into sudden surprise. “Well, it’s amazing how observant you are. Are you hoping we go home tonight? Together, I mean.” “Of course! I would love to see something from the two of you on stage for the public.” “I would love to work with Michael. I have heard so many great things about the dedication he has to his art.” You smiled, happy with the answer you gave. In your head you thanked the heavens for your media training. The interview moved on, and so did you. Yet, the thought of being so obvious about it pained you. Did Michael notice? Were you scaring him off before the night truly began?
As artists settled into their seats, both you and Eddie Murphy prepared for your shared opening speech. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and your heart pattered faster than it was before. Before you could realize it, Eddie grabbed your hand. “It’s going to be alright, just do it like we practiced.” He offered a comforting smile. You looked into your dressing room mirror one last time. On stage, Eddie had started his part of the speech. Your nerves calmed as you did your part. Being on stage was natural, even comforting, to you. You reached the part of the speech where both you and Eddie were doing crowd work. “Michael Jackson is here tonight. The special thing about him is he could say anything on television and the public would believe him.” The crowd chuckled while Eddie continued with his joke. “Michael went on television and said, ‘I don’t have sex because of my religious beliefs,’ and the public believed it.” Your face turned a slight shade of pink as the crowds started to laugh louder. “I know brothers were like ‘get the hell out of here.’” Eddie took his regular comedic pause, giving the crowd the time to continue their laughter. “And them white people are like ‘that Michael’s a special kind of guy.’” Eddie bantered with his special “White Man Voice” as he called it. The night went on, jokes, the beginning of all the awards, and planned intimacy between you and Eddie for the media. You were ready to announce the winner for album of the year.
“… is Michael Jackson’s Thriller.”
Your pulse quickened watching him walk up the steps to collect his award. His aura was intoxicating. As he stepped onto the stage, he gave you a quick hug. Unbeknownst to you, he overheard what you said in your interview on the red carpet. “Lovely comedy, Y/N. Lovely.” His voice was low and alluring in your ear. You handed him his first award of the night. Your fingers brushed slightly, but it was nothing compared to his soft voice in your ear as you were wrapped in his embrace. The night carried on with one award after another. Each time he came up to collect his award, he wrapped an arm around you whispering another compliment in your ear just to see you turn a deep cherry red. His gaze followed you relentlessly, almost predatory in its intensity. He stood between you and Eddie protectively. He was very assured of what he wanted, and he let no man stand in his way.
“Your dress is beautiful tonight. I adore this color on you.”
“Your hair tonight has that perfect swoop. I just love that.”
“Your eyes have something in them that draws me toward you.”
Every time it was something new that made your heart race more than the last. Before he collected his final award of the night, he leaned in for one last whisper. He held you in a, now more than casual, embrace. His hands tightened around your waist.
“I’d love to be going home with you tonight. Only if you wouldn’t mind”
Before you could respond, just like each time, he would walk right up to the podium and begin his acceptance speech. The rest of the show became an unbearable waiting game. You needed to speak to him. You needed to accept his invitation. You would die before losing this offer. As soon as the show wrapped, you walked straight back to your dressing room. Eddie followed behind you. “Hey, I think Michael was flirting with you.” You were too happy to give him your usual annoyed look for his obvious statement. “I really hope he was.” You slipped off your heels, now holding them in your arms. You walked with a purpose down the long corridor to your dressing room. You swung open the door in excitement to see Michael holding one of your necklaces. “You like pearls, hm?” This was your first chance to speak with him. “I love pearls.” You walked over, closing the door behind you, to where he had been standing. He was right in front of the mirror of your vanity. “Why did you wear this one tonight?” He asked softly, attentively waiting to hear your voice again. “Do you like that necklace more?” ”I think anything would be lovely on you.” He stood behind you taking off the necklace you had on, and he delicately draped the pearls over your collarbone. You looked at him through the mirror, his gaze still fixed on your necklace. You noticed his eyes lingering down your collarbone. Before you could look away, your eyes met his through the mirror. With care, his hands wrapped around your waist. He placed a tender kiss on your temple. Not needy or protective. His gesture was intimate. The affection behind it was irresistible.
“Don’t we look good together, just like this?”
“I think you look good.”
“Baby, I said we. As in us together, like this.”
He took a second, his eyes still tracing you. “Get ready to come back to my place. I’ll have the chef make you anything you’d like.” You smiled, unable to hide your excitement.
