. .˚ ⋆A Kiss?.. ⋆. .˚ ——- Jermaine Jackson
Fluff • Notes.ᐟ Drabble based on THIS , I got caught up while finding clips for my edit😳, I KNOWWWW i’m supposed to be working on Michael AND I AM I PROMISEEE, js wanted to share this • (not proofread)
Jermaine came off the stage, finishing his performance on The Midnight Special. He was literally drenched in sweat, his soft afro curls sticking to the sides of his face. The cool air of the dressing rooms was pure relief adding a relaxing chill to the wet layer of his skin.
He plopped down in his vanity stool, lazily clipping off his base strap, still panting from his upbeat performance.
You spotted your husband in the bunch of people from across the room, in that bright red top he had on.
Your heels clicked against the tiles as you gripped the clean towel in your hands.
Jermaine set his bass guitar up against his vanity, letting his back slump against the back of the chair.
His eyes were barely closed for a minute when he heard the pretty voice of his wife, his eyes quickly fluttering open.
“Hey baby…” you started, your voice softened to contrast all the commotion he had just endured.
“Hey Sweetness,” He breathed out in fatigue, a sluggish grin growing on his face.
You knelt down matching his level as you began to pat the towel against his face, drying the glisten coating his forehead.
“You looked so handsome and sexy up there, I was beginning to be jealous of Ms. Ross,” you teased him, brushing off the wet curls that clung to his cheeks.
“Really? You wanna give me a hug then?” He said, slightly sitting up.
“No I do not…” you giggled, patting his exposed chest.
“A kiss?” He raised his eyebrows trying to reason with you.
You paused, looking up at him, your eyes falling to his lips…and the gathering of moisture above his perfect cupid's bow.
“A kiss,” you give in.
You leaned up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. He lingered for an extra couple moments, melting into you, filling that missing void. Feeling comfort after essentially being the Jermaine Jackson; a performer, for everyone else in the audience.
You pulled away, both of you smiling at each other like you were still the same silly teenagers from a couple years ago.
He grabbed the towel out of your hands that had been pressed to his chest, starting to wipe the spots you missed, his deep brown eyes never leaving yours.
“Thank you, baby.”
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