Fireworks || Micheal Jackson
Summary: Celebrating the 4th at the Jackson residence is always a blast. Great music, great food and lots of laughter. When you and Micheal have a moment alone in the kitchen, he gets the boldness to do something that he's wanted to do for years.
Tags: Pure Fluff, Reader & Mike are 19, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends/Crush, Flirting, Mutual Pining, Slight Sexual/Suggestive Themes.
The scent being carried on the warm breeze is the very epitome of summer. If whatever good memories smell like had to be summarized, it would be like this. The air is hot and dressed in notes of chlorine, grass and the smoky scent of various meat being grilled to perfection.
The breeze blows through the open window in the kitchen that's facing the large pool outside; bringing the already nostalgic combination of all of aromas to your nose.
That's what the breeze carries inside the kitchen from outside, the kitchen itself smells different, if not better. Various serving dishes, large plates and family sized bowls are beautifully arrayed atop the large counter top. All of the dishes apart from the aluminum ones are various combinations of red, white and blue.
For the last few hours you've been helping Mrs. Jackson put together different dishes for the cookout. You helped cut the potatoes for the potato salad, seasoned the wings, made the baked beans and handed her whatever she needed when she asked.
You felt flattered that she viewed your skills as good enough to help her throw together everything, especially in her kitchen. Between stirs of collard greens and tasting mac and cheese, she'd show you how to do this or why not to use too much of that. She's a traditional woman, and has been like a second mother to you your whole life.
The primary scent floating around the kitchen is that of barbecue sauce and the creamy sweetness of the banana pudding that you're currently finishing up. Rich layers of fluffy whipped cream, golden cookies and pale yellow pudding climb layer upon layer in the beautiful glass dish in front of you.
The sound of the backdoor swinging open causes you to look up from adding the last few crumbles of vanilla wafers to the pudding. When you look up, you see Micheal already entering the kitchen with a bright smile on his face; that's his usual expression whenever he lays eyes on you, he can't help it.
His heart skipped when he realized that you're by yourself, he's wanted your attention to himself all day. Between you so kindly helping his mom and fighting off Marlon and Jermaine that kept begging for premature samples; the two of you haven't shared a words since he opened the door to let you in earlier.
His skin is a beautiful, deep sunkissed bronze and his hair indicates clearly that he hasn't been in the pool yet. He's wearing red swim shorts and a pale blue button-up shirt that he's left unbuttoned; leaving his slender but toned chest exposed to your eyes.
Your lips curl into a warm smile, the type of smile that you only flash at him. Of course you love his brothers, they've been like your brothers since you all were little, but being around Micheal ignites a different warmth in your chest. It's deeper and harder to control. "Hey, Mike!" Your gladness to see him finally is evident by your chipper tone.
Micheal leans on the counter top on crossed arms, his eyes scanning over the array of fresh food. "How's it, mama? How's everything coming along?" His eyes quickly come back to yours after he's done admiring how delicious everything looks. You look better than all of it, though. Pretty skin that glistens even in indoor lighting and your hair shines with that stuff he loves the smell of.
You let out a sigh that sounds like a satisfying job-well-done. "Good, good." You untie your apron from behind your back without missing a beat and place it on the counter. "Everything is almost finished, well, in here. Jackie's on the grill taking care of the proteins." You inform him as you step to grab something out of the cutlery drawer.
Micheal's gaze follows you across the kitchen, he doesn't want to miss a single one of your movements. The thing is, he doesn't even realize that he's doing this, at least, not anymore. It's a habit that he'd developed at some point over the course of your friendship. His eyes are always on you, even in a crowd of people.
If you're speaking, there might as well be nobody else in the room. You've never known anyone to make eye contact like he does when you're saying anything, literally anything. He'll hold your gaze like a warm hug for minutes on end, only breaking to dance around your features, then back to your eyes.
You noticed this habit, but you thought it was just Mike being Mike. His brother noticed this habit, and jest among themselves about how far gone their brother is for the pretty neighbor girl.
You lean against the counter on your hip in front of him. It feels good to take a break after playing chef since eleven this morning. It was fun and enriching, but now you can get back to being a nineteen year old on the fourth of July.
"Yeah, he just told me that he's finishing up the first round of meat. He doesn't wanna make everything at once, then stuff will be sittin." Micheal says, his eyes scan over the food again and he's pretty sure he feels his stomach grumble.
"Okay, great!" Jackie had insisted that grilling is 'mans work' when he took the tray of burgers and hot dogs from you earlier; so you're glad to hear that everything went well and according to schedule.
"This all looks amazing, y/n." Mike's voice is soft and genuine, there's a hum of awe and pride in his voice that you inspire more often than you know. You follow his gaze to look over and admire everything. The watermelon is the most alluring shade of red and everything carries a freshly-made shine that makes both your mouths water.
Something flutters in your stomach and your lips break in a smile, a softer, more shy one. He's so giving when it comes to praise, and it never feels shallow or performative. It's the way he'll intently hold your gaze and speak such affirmation from his heart right into your ears. His voice becomes lower and softer like he's speaking from the deepest depths of himself.
You took a moment to take in the beauty of his face; a moment that you didn't realize you took because time feels relative around him. "Thanks." You smile softly, and it warms him all over like sunshine.
"Taste!" Before Micheal could say anything you'd shoved a spoon past him lips. A generous spoon of banana pudding entered his mouth before he knew what hit him or where you were even hiding that spoon.
Surprise melted into sugar-induced euphoria as the flavors spread over his tongue. Drowning every taste bud in rich creamy whipped cream that carries the texture of silk. The flavor of banana takes him to the islands in his mind and the crumble on top adds just enough salt to tie it all together beautifully.
His eyes flutter closed to focus all of his senses on the perfection you'd just forced into his mouth and you smile at the sight. The man has no idea how adorable he is. The way he hums with pleasure is the first audible sign you have that he likes the dessert.
"You like?" Your cheeks would hurt from smiling if smiling at him wasn't your favorite thing to do.
Micheal's eyes shoot open, widened with excitement and sparkling. He looks like a man that's struck gold. "Whew!" That sample was too good for only words to sum it up, he had to throw some hoopin and hollerin in there. "More than like!" His tongue cleans every last drop from inside his mouth; swiping the cream that got left above his teeth and the bit of pudding on the corner of his lips too.
The way his face lights up to praise you causes a warmth to spread throughout your chest. You esteem him so highly that him showing enjoyment in anything you do or create feels beyond nice. His smile is so bright and his eyes make you feel more seen than anyone else's.
You dig the tablespoon back into the little bowl of banana pudding that you'd set aside for the purpose of taste-testing. You put the spoon into your mouth to taste your work.
Mike watches the same spoon that was just in his mouth enter yours in slow motion; the way your slick tongue glides across the bottom of it to turn the spoon over onto your taste buds. His gaze is practically in your mouth, he didn't realize you're comfortable sharing like that. His eyes become glazed over as his mind drifts to the idea of his slick mixing with yours in your mouth. He didn't realize how he bit his lip at that.
Neither did you because your eyes are currently closed in ecstasy. The pudding is refreshingly cool, the cream is the creamiest you've ever had. The banana flavor is fresh and strong enough for you to smell it through your nose. "Mmm." You hum as your lips curl into a closed smile while your tongue licks the remaining sweetness off of your teeth.
You swallow the sample down after savoring it all you could and your lips open with a satisfied smack. Micheal, on the other hand, is lost in watching your tongue lick the silver spoon totally clean. Fortunately for him, his rich complexion hides the flush that rises to his cheeks. Your tongue curls around the spoon, leaving wetness in its wake that he wonders the taste of.
He forces his mind back to the less obscene things. Because it would be weird to escape to take a cold shower at this point in the afternoon and the material of his swim shorts isn't the thickest.
You analyse the flavors and textures that you just ingested, searching for anything that needs to be tweaked. "I'm glad the banana came through, I was afraid it would taste too vanilla-y." You remark, before licking one last bit of cream from the back of the spoon.
Micheal resists the urge to clear his throat, that would make it more obvious how watching you open-mouth lick that spoon is affecting him. "It's perfect, you nailed it." He praises you once more with a smile that's somehow softer but from an even deeper place. His blinks are slow when he looks at you. His heart finds a way to express itself through his mannerisms even if his mouth won't say the words.
Micheal's round, doe eyes radiate a warmth that you're very comfortable in and his lids are lower than they probably should be. His voice sounds like a purr, like warm honey makes your skin buzz all over.
You hadn't previously realized how close the two of you are standing to each other because it felt so natural. It's as if your bodies put the two of you here subconsciously because it just felt right. There's only a few inches between the tips of his toes and yours.
Your eyes finally meet his again after having been squinted in concentration as you were looking for any needed alterations to your dish; of which, you found none.
You look up at him from beneath your lashes, and there's that feeling. A feeling that's been hovering between the two of you for years but goes unacknowledged. Neither of you is sure if the other feels it too, but it feels like lightning crackling throughout your body and the highest high at once. It's magnetic and overwhelming and buzzing with something that's kept you up at night since you were thirteen.
Micheal clears his throat, the back of his neck grows warm at the proximity. The top of your head stops at his collarbone, the sweet scent of your hair is making him dizzy and his knees weak. Damn it, he can survive swarms of screaming fans but if you so much as look at him he's a goner.
Everything that's happened in the last five minutes starts to hit him at once and he feels himself getting shy. He presses his lips together, a subtle indicator of his rising bashfulness. "You got some--" Micheal softly points to a bit of whipped cream that's left on the corner of your pretty lips.
Your eyes widen when you get the message. “Oh.” You gasp, you quickly turn towards the counter to grab something to wipe your face. Before you can find a napkin you feel the heat of Micheal’s lips kiss the dessert from the corner of your lips.
He leaned in, quickly before the boldness left him, and kissed the cream from where your lips meet your cheek. Two pecks and his plush lips had mopped it all up. He wanted to use his tongue but has sense enough not to. It was fast and soft and sweetly shy. The heat of his mouth lingered even when he pulled away and when he did your face is now clean again.
It happened so fast you feel like a deer in headlights. You blink at him in shock, mouth agape but curling into a smile and your eyes sparkling a bit brighter. “Wow.” Is all that you can say, you’re beyond surprised but not unpleasantly. Your heart rate has definitely increased and your ears feel like they’re on fire.
You tilt your head to the side playfully. “Feeling bold today, Mikey?” There’s a teasing sarcasm in your voice that’s lowered with something meant for after sunset. Your big smile beams all the way to your eyes and bears the slightest resemblance to a smirk.
Micheal flashes a bashful smile, the softness of your skin already feels to be tattooed onto his lips. He lets out a shy laugh that’s more breathy than usual as he looks down at his feet. He feels like he’s burning up all over.
Self-awareness hits him and just like that he's terrified that maybe he shouldn't have done that. He just thought, well, he's not sure what he was thinking. “It’s just so good, I didn’t want to waste any.” He chuckles, catching his lip nervously between his teeth as he rubs the back of his neck.
His big brown eyes flick back up at you from under his dark lashes. "Was that okay?" He asks softly, and you can't see it but he's practically holding his breath. That was either the greatest completed pass or greatest fumble of his life.
You pause and take in how his features have become shrouded in a boyish nervousness that makes your heart ache. Your lips curl into a smile. "I'll allow it."
