── .✦ synopsis - y/n, a successful prodigy singer, begins collaborating with michael jackson on his upcoming solo album, ‘off the wall.' but during one cozy night in the studio alone, michael realises he doesnt just want to make a record with you.
◁ II ▷ song(s) - shes out of my life by mj, and girlfriend <3
── .✦ cw: fluff, otw!michael, yearning, alone together, fluffy dialogue, kissing, basically michael realising hes falling in love with the reader and just two young adults liking eachother!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ the whole of america was excited for the child prodigy, michael jackson, to release his first solo album, off the wall. but nobody was more excited to begin working on it than michael himself. word has gotten out about the collaborations with well-established artists, like the beatles' pal mccartney, quincy jones, and stevie wonder. but what michael was most excited for was the rising star, y/n.
quincy presented your music to michael after hearing about your album release a years prior, and saw real potential in you. with your two successful records, your rise to fame was quick, only being 1 year younger than michael at the time. tabloids and news outlets claimed your undeniable success was for your profound beauty and impressive dancing, but they protested your voice wasn't being used to its full range. but when michael first heard your songs, it wasn't just quincy who revelled in your potential.
so when michael personally invited you to collaborate on two of the songs in his upcoming album, you couldn't say no.
despite you two being so different, you got along oh so well. in quincy's hunt to harvest real, genuine emotion in the songs you both were going to sing, he suggested you two spent some time together. long walks, late night drives, going to the movies. quincy wanted the songs to come across to the listeners as raw, and believed they needed a 'friendship,' to convince them of that. it was clear to the untrained eye that you both had fun getting to know each other. the homework quincy gave you eventually turned into sleepovers, and after spending the majority of the two months you had known each other, together, you got pretty close.
michael truly believed it was an honour to work with you. throughout production, not only did he teach you new ways of experimenting with sound, but over time you saw something in michael that no one else seemed to.
his fear.
it was like you could read his thoughts. you could tell he was anxious the world was just think of him as a breakaway child star who attempted to make a solo album. but, you always made sure to assure him,
'the whole world is going to hear michael jackson..' and how he was going to change the music industry forever.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖
one night, you and michael where playing around in the studio. after quincy left for the day, the real work was done hours ago.
in the dimly lit studio, the soundboard was decorated with papers of song lyrics and full-up notepads, flung over the top of the various button's twinkly lights. the smell of the pot of coffee you two brewed to keep you going wafted out the room. michael's mug of the brown liquid reminded you of the dark turtleneck he had snuggled himself up in, slumped back in his chair and creasing his khaki slacks. he was dressed a little more professional than you where, with your oversized patterned sweater and levis cuffed at the ankles.
'you know, if we had you posted up on the front of the album cover... i think it would be the best selling album of all time,' he smiled.
you threw your head back with laughter before taking another sip of your coffee.
'michael.. as much as i love the two songs we're working on, can i ask... what else is there?'
michael didnt answer, he only dug his face deeper into his jumper, hiding his embarresed look plastered on his face.
'please im so desperate to hear! i want to know what the album looks like as a finished product.. we've been working so hard, i know its gonna be a triumph.' you exclaimed. and with that, you and michael began listening to what was going to be, off the wall.
'i love that one.. get on the floor, its real catchy! i'd love to hear that in a club sometime.' you complimented, sitting back down with a large sigh after having spent the last 3 minutes dancing.
'perhaps quincy will send us to go dancing together as our next homework, assignment,'' he joked.
'yeah, he really wants true emotion in both of our songs, doesn't he?' you noted, pulling your suede chair closer to his.
'yeah so do i, but im not complaining.. these past few months have been really fun for me, y/n.'
you smiled, finishing your sip before finally averting your gaze up to meet his, 'me too, michael,'
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ 'hit it, mike!' you commanded as you put the recording booth's headphones around your head.
while the two of you already finished girlfriend, you decided to have an experiment and play with some of the lyrics and tuning of some tracks while you both had the studio free that night.
'you know, michael this songs messy! your really gonna tell her boyfriend everything?!' you managed to blurt out inbetween your laughter. with michael sat on the office chair outside the recording booth, he fiddled with the soundboard to channel through your other song you two had been working on, she's out of my life.
with your eyes closed, you started singing out,
'shes out of my life,
and i dont know whether, to laugh or cry,
and it cuts like a knife,
shes out of my life,'
while looking out at you, so immersed in the song, michael started to reflect on all the time you had spent together.
his heart rate began to quicken. he realised how he didn't read inbetween the lines in your exchanges. he hadn't realised how much he enjoyed talking with you, hanging out with you because of how busy you both where alongside quincy's immense pressure to make the two songs perfect. but he didn't care about that anymore.
michael suddenly started thinking about life after the album was released. when will he see you again? he knows you'd have press releases and perhaps a small collaboration on live tours, but when will he be able to talk to you about his fears again? when can you go for another late night drive, or share an ice cream cone while strolling down ventura boulevard til' the early hours of the morning? michael was having an epiphany.
'now ive learned that love needs expression,
but ive learned that too late,'
it was like michael had died and his seven minutes where flashing right before his eyes -
and it was all you.
all the times he had called you, begging to hang out or see your face, telling himself it was just what quincy wanted. but it was michael needed. how could he have been so blind, such an idiot? he never wanted to let those moments slip away again, and with the sudden threat of all being taken away, tears began to trough in his eyes.
too consumed in his newfound grief, he hadn't realised you had taken your headphones off your head, wrapping them loosely around your neck.
'how was that?'
you look up at michael briefly. you always got lost in your singing, and now you where giddy, unable to stand still after performing what you considered was a perfect take.
michael rose up out of his chair, almost in a trance walking through the door to the recording booth and shutting it behind him.
'i think that one was good, no?' brushing past the fact that he didn't respond, you began putting the headphones back on the stand near the ground,
not paying attention to the distance that michael seemed to be closing between you and him.
you looked up to him, 'michael? whats wrong?'
"...was it that bad?'
just inches away from you, you heart began jumping out of your chest. he never dropped eye contact.
what is he doing..
and why is he getting ... so close?"
just inches apart, he plants his large, warm hands on either side of your face, cupping the apple of your cheek with his thumb.
those eyes you had kept a responsible distance from in the past, where unbelievably close now.
'm-michael?' you couldn't help but scan his face, raising your brows with worry. with your face starting to burn up, you questioned - do i have a massive spider in my hair or something?!
he slowly leaned in, angling his head to close the small gap between your mouths, stopping briefly before shifting his tantalising gaze from your lips up to your eyes.
almost like hes looking for permission,
and you dont back away.
knowing hes got it, and never wanting to let it go, to let you go, he leans in and presses your lips together.
second fic kinda nervous x
so glad u guys liked prof. jackson<3 and glad you want a part two! however idk where to take it from where it ended... maybe him getting jealous? IDK guys lmk:) anyway hope u enjoyed this lil fluffy one, i love off the wall era sm and he seems like a yearner to me.
The house in Encino, California, was strangely quiet for it to be ten o'clock on a Friday night. Usually, whenever you and Michael came back to Hayvenhurst after a date, finding a moment alone was nearly impossible. Janet always seemed to have friends over, laughter echoing through the hallways. Katherine was constantly calling for one of her children to help her with something, and somewhere in the house at least two of the Jackson brothers were bound to be arguing over something neither of them would remember by morning.
But tonight was different.
The house that was normally so full of life and noise felt unusually still. The Jackson siblings were all off doing their own things, and Katherine and Joseph were out as well. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was just you and Michael.
The quiet should have felt strange, but instead it only made you more aware of him. Every glance lingered a little longer, every smile felt a little warmer. This was the most privacy the two of you had ever had, and the atmosphere between you felt almost electric.
With the house being so quiet, you two decided to do the only thing you knew how to do: watch a movie.
“You can pick the movie, honey."
"Michael, it is your house, you pick."
"Fine. We can watch Peter Pan."
You smiled to yourself, already knowing that was exactly what he was going to choose.
Peter Pan had always been Michael's favorite story. He related to the boy who never wanted to grow up, who escaped into imagination when the world became too complicated. While most people saw a simple children's movie, Michael saw a place where magic still existed and childhood never had to end.
You understood why.
For as long as you'd known him, there had always been a quiet innocence about him. He found joy in things most people outgrew long ago, holding tightly to the wonder and imagination that made him who he was. And knowing how much of his childhood had been spent working, your heart always ached a little when he talked about Peter Pan.
It wasn't just his favorite movie. It was a reminder of the childhood he wished he'd had. The thought tugged at your heart for a moment before Michael's voice gently pulled you back to the present.
"Do you want me to make popcorn?" he asked softly.
"Yes! I saved room at dinner so I could eat some," you replied.
"Okay, baby. I'll be right back," he said, pushing himself off the couch and standing. Just as he was about to leave, he gave you a quick peck on the lips.
You didn't know what had come over you that week, but the mere feeling of his lips flicking quickly on yours like that made your stomach flutter. He had always given you butterflies and made your heart race, but lately it had felt more intense.
And Michael felt it too.
When he pulled away from the quick kiss, you immediately missed the warm softness of his lips against yours. You reached up and grabbed the white V-neck shirt layered beneath his red flannel, intending to pull him back for another kiss, but you quickly stopped yourself just before your lips could meet again.
Instead, your gaze drifted to his eyes.
The moment you looked into them, with him standing above your seated frame on the couch, your heart nearly stopped. Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you felt your face begin to flush.
"I love you."
The words slipped out before you could think.
Michael laughed—not at you, but at the way you said it. The confession had tumbled out of you so suddenly, so breathlessly, that it caught him off guard. It wasn't the casual, familiar "I love you" the two of you exchanged every day. It sounded deeper than that, as though the words had been sitting in your heart for far too long and had finally found their way out.
"I love you too, sweetheart," he replied in a register of depth that seemed reserved only for you, only for the quiet moments you shared together.
"No, like... I really love you, Michael."
"I know," he replied, slightly confused but making sure you knew he meant it.
You reached up and cradled his cheek before giving him another kiss. It lasted longer this time.
Your lips met a few more times, slowly and tenderly, each kiss lingering just a little longer than the last. It felt as though every kiss ignited a warmth that spread through your chest like sunlight breaking through after a storm.
"Baby..." Michael murmured as he gently pulled back.
"Hmm?" you replied, backing away slightly so you could look up into his eyes. The movement reminded you once again of his towering frame as he leaned over you from where you sat on the couch.
"What are you doing?"
"Kissing you?" you replied, slightly confused.
He let out a breathy laugh.
"I know that, silly. But why are you kissing me like you won't see me again for months?"
You didn't know how to respond. Honestly, you didn't even know what had come over you.
So you simply said, "I don't know. I'm sorry."
The words came out quietly, tinged with embarrassment.
You broke eye contact and looked at the floor, a habit you'd developed in childhood whenever your parents made you question your actions.
Michael noticed immediately. He knew that look better than anyone. After all, his own childhood had been filled with moments like that because of his father.
He lowered himself and sat back down on the couch beside you, settling against the right side of your body.
"You do not have anything to be sorry about," he replied, gently rubbing circles against your left shoulder blade. "What's going on?" he asked softly, as though you were something fragile that might shatter if handled too roughly.
You opened your mouth to answer, but the words refused to come.
How were you supposed to explain it?
The love you felt for Michael was unlike anything you had ever experienced. It had woven itself into every part of your life so naturally that you hadn't even noticed how deeply it had taken root until now. Somewhere along the way, he had become your favorite person, your safest place, the first person you wanted to tell everything to.
The realization hit you all at once.
Your vision blurred as tears gathered in your eyes.
"Hey, hey," Michael murmured, immediately turning toward you. His free arm, wrapped all the way around your frame pulling you into his chest.
"I'm okay," you said, though your voice wavered.
"No, you're crying."
A small laugh escaped through your tears.
"I know."
He reached over and took your hand in his.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
You looked down at your intertwined fingers before finally whispering, "I just love you so much that it scares me sometimes."
For a moment, Michael simply stared at you. Then his expression softened in a way that made your chest ache.
"Oh, baby."
His thumb brushed across the back of your hand.
Michael's expression softened even more.
"You don't have to be scared of that," he repeated gently. "Loving somebody isn't supposed to make you feel alone. If anything, it means you've got somebody standing beside you."
A few tears still slipped down your cheeks, and Michael carefully brushed them away with his thumb.
"And I'm not going anywhere," he continued softly. "You hear me?"
You nodded, though another tear escaped.
Michael gave a small, sympathetic smile.
"Hey, none of that." He gently tilted your chin upward so you would look at him.
"You don't have to carry everything by yourself. If something's bothering you, if you're scared, if you're happy, if you're excited—you tell me. That's what I'm here for."
Your eyes filled again, but this time the tears felt different.
"I know,” you whispered.
"Good."
He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead before pulling you into another hug, holding you close while rubbing slow circles against your back.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
The quiet house seemed even quieter now, wrapping around you like a blanket. Michael simply stayed there beside you, letting you settle against him until her breathing finally evened out.
"You know something?" he asked after a while.
"What?"
"I think you're stuck with me."
A small laugh escaped your lips.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
That finally earned the smile he had been trying to coax out of you.
"There it is," he said softly. "I was wondering where that smile went."
You rolled your eyes, but you could not stop smiling.
Michael squeezed your hand once.
"Now," he said, standing up, "if I don't go make that popcorn, you're gonna start blaming me when the movie starts."
You laughed and shook your head.
"Maybe."
"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about."
A few minutes later, he came back balancing a large bowl in his hands. The familiar smell of butter filled the room as he set it on the coffee table and lowered himself onto the couch beside you once more.
The opening music of Peter Pan drifted through the living room after he started the movie.
The house remained quiet around you.
You leaned comfortably against his shoulder while you watched, and Michael automatically reached over to adjust the blanket across both of your bodies. It was such a familiar gesture that neither of you thought about it.
As the movie continued, Michael's fingers found your hair.
They always did.
He absentmindedly twirled a loose strand between his fingers while watching the screen, occasionally smoothing it back behind your ear, sending chills down your spine. The simple gesture was calming, and before long you felt yourself relaxing completely.
The worries that had seemed so overwhelming earlier gradually faded into the background.
Every now and then Michael glanced down to make you were okay. Each time he did, he found you looking calmer than before.
By the middle of the movie, neither of you were paying much attention to Peter Pan anymore.
The warmth of the blanket, the quiet house, and the comfort of being together made your eyelids heavy.
A soft smile crossed Michael's face when he noticed you were nearly asleep against him.
The movie was still playing quietly in the background, but he knew neither of you were really watching anymore.
Carefully, so he wouldn't disturb you, he reached for the remote resting on the coffee table.
The room fell silent as he switched off the television.
Only the soft glow of a nearby lamp remained.
For a moment, Michael simply sat there, looking down at you resting peacefully against him. Earlier in the evening you had been crying, overwhelmed by emotions you didn't know how to explain. Now, finally, you looked calm. Safe. Content.
Michael adjusted the blanket around both of you one last time before settling back against the couch.
You instinctively moved closer in your sleep, and he smiled to himself.
Wrapping an arm around your waist, he gently pulled you nearer so you wouldn't end up uncomfortable during the night.
Then he pressed a soft kiss against the top of your head.
"I love you," he whispered.
The words were barely louder than a breath.
He wasn't even sure you heard them.
But somehow, your expression softened even more, because even going in and out of sleep, you still heard that.
Michael smiled.
Soon afterward, his eyes finally drifted shut as well.
The house remained quiet around you, the popcorn forgotten on the coffee table, the television dark, and the worries of the day far away.
And there, curled up together beneath the blanket, you slept peacefully through the rest of the night.
A/N:
Hey lovely people! This is my first MJ imagine/ imagine in general so it’s only up from here I guess! But seriously, I love this man and love to do imagines. Let me know if you have any requests I would LOVE to write them for you! Thanks for reading! <3
my girl ! 𖤓 ｡𖦹°‧ ⋆☀︎. [michael jackson x black!fem!reader]
⤷synopsis: you’re michael’s best friend, but the two of you have had feelings for each other for the longest. what begins as a casual hang out one summer afternoon ends with him confessing his love for you.
⤷content: fluff, flirting, cheesiness, teeny tiny bit of angst, confession of feelings, friends-to-lovers, kissing
⤷word count: 3.6k
⤷no use of y/n. reader referred to by pet names
encino, ca
it’s early friday afternoon, summer of 1979, and instead of hitting the town with your girls you’re at home, rereading your favorite book, charlie and the chocolate factory, for the umpteenth time. it’s not that you don’t like going out, no—you were just hoping to get a call from your best friend michael and that he would ask you to hang out, is all. you made sure to keep one or two evenings out of your week free just for him, given his crazy work schedule and all the other stuff that comes with being a buzzing solo artist.
you are at the part where veruca salt is being captured by the squirrels when the sound of your landline ringing catches your attention. excitement bubbles up within you as you hastily bookmark the page you were on and hurry over to the phone.
“hello?” you answer, waiting to see if it’s him. the person on the other end chuckles, and you recognize it immediately as michael, knowing his laugh from anywhere.
“hey mama.”
“hey michael.” you lean against the wall, twirling the phone cord around your fingers. not even five words spoken and you’re already blushing; a reaction only he could get out of you. lately, all it really took was for him to look at you, with his kind eyes and beautiful smile.
“are you busy?” he asks, and you can tell he’s smiling as he talks.
“no, just doing some reading.”
“let me guess, charlie and the chocolate factory?”
you laugh, glancing over at the book laying on the couch. “how’d you know?”
“cause it’s your favorite, and i know my girl.”
“how are you?”
“i’m good, thank you for asking. what about yourself?”
you hear some shuffling on his end, and what sounds like a car door closing. “well, if i’m being honest, i’m feeling a little lonely. i was wondering if my favorite person would come keep me some company.”
“sure, i’d love to.” you tell him, already thinking about what you could wear.
“you’re not busy, are you? with your studies and all?” michael hesitates. you were in your junior year of college, studying english, and it was very important to him that he never distracted you from your academic commitments.
“no, mikey,” you giggle, finding his concern cute. “i finished all my work earlier today.”
“you promise?”
“i promise.”
“okay, good.” he says, sounding at ease. “i’ll be over to get you in about an hour.”
you hear michael and bill arrive in your driveway an hour later on the dot. you peek out the window and see him leaning against the car, arms crossed in front of him as he patiently waits for you. your stomach flips with anticipation as you check yourself one last time in your vanity mirror. you take a few more seconds to meticulously position certain curls of your braid out and apply one more coat of your favorite shimmery lipgloss before you rush out of your house.
michael notices you right away, a big smile stretching across his face as you saunter over to greet him. he looks so good, wearing a simple outfit of blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt. you briefly worry that your white halter top and floral print skirt might be too much, but the way he checks you out and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck tells you you made the right choice.
“you look… wow.” he breathes. you playfully nudge his shoulder. “dang, michael. no ‘hello?’”
“right, sorry… hi.”
“hi.”
“i’ve missed you.” he says, gently pulling you in for a hug. you squeeze him back, enjoying the smell of his cologne and the tenderness with which he holds you. “i missed you too, mikey.”
he releases you first and grabs the handle of the backseat door, opening it and gesturing inside. “you ready to go?”
“of course.”
you get in the car and he slides in next to you, shutting the door behind himself. bill is quietly playing sudoku in the driver’s seat, minding his own business as he typically did.
“hey, bill!” you greet him, waving. he acknowledges you through the rearview mirror, tipping his head down in a nod. with how often you spent time with michael, the two of you had grown quite familiar as well. “hey sweetheart.”
bill puts his sudoku away in the glove compartment. he turns the key in the ignition and the engine roars to life. “where we headed to, mike?”
“just back home, please.” michael tells him, rolling the window down slightly. the summer breeze that creeps in flows through the curls resting against his forehead.
“to hayvenhurst.”
as bill begins to reverse out of your driveway, you feel michael’s arm slide around your shoulders. unbeknownst to the both of you, bill sees this and chuckles to himself, shaking his head.
michael caresses your arm with his fingers, eyes glued on the houses of your neighborhood as you all ride past them. you take this as an opportunity to stare at the side of his face: not in a creepy way, but to admire his handsome features. His defined eyebrows and full eyelashes, the slope of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. it’s definitely out of the ordinary to find your best friend so fine, but, what you and michael have is different, to say the least. to you it is, anyway. you’re still not one hundred percent sure if he gets butterflies when thinking about you or daydreams about spending time together the way you do.
he must be able to hear your thoughts, because he turns and catches you blatantly staring at him. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tease you. he just smiles. abashed, you look down at your lap, face now burning.
to make some small talk he asks you about your week. you detail each of your classes and the sheer boatload of homework your professors assigned you. you tell him about your housemate and how she left her dirty plates in the sink for four days. you also tell him about a meeting with your academic advisor and express to him your nervousness about next fall because that’s when she said you should start applying for graduate school programs. he listens intently, hanging on to every word you say. what you don’t know is that he loves hearing you talk, whether that be on the phone or in person like this.
before you know it you’re at the hayvenhurst estate. bill pulls around to the front of the house and turns off the car, immediately going to retrieve his sudoku. michael hops out first and holds the door open for you. “thank you, bill, i’ll see you later.” you say before exiting the vehicle.
he doesn’t look up from the puzzle. “it’s no problem, sweetheart.”
as you expect, the first thing michael wants to do when the both of you get upstairs to his room is play something. he excitedly leads you over to the shelving unit in the corner which is overflowing with various board and table games.
“you pick,” he tells you, shoving his hands into his front pockets and bouncing on his heels, excitement radiating off of him. “i picked last time.”
your eyes briefly land on twister. the idea of being tangled up with him on the floor, your limbs intertwined…it makes you shiver, so you scrap that idea immediately. you continue to scan the games. you decide on one, grabbing the box and holding it up.
“mancala?” he grins knowingly. it may or may not be the game you pick nine times out of ten.
“yes, i love mancala.”
“mancala it is.”
you beat michael at mancala three separate times before he decides he’s had enough.
“how do you win every time?” he asks, returning the game to its spot on the shelf. you shrug your shoulders, playing coy. “i dunno.”
“you’re a genius. you know something about it i don’t, huh?”
“maybe.” you get up from the floor and sit crisscross on his bed. michael sits next to you, his knee lightly brushing against yours.
“one thing i do know,” he begins, sighing dreamily. “is that i could go for some ice cream. you want some?”
“michael, when have i ever said ‘no’ to ice cream?”
“right, right.” he laughs, standing once more. the afternoon sun is peeking through the curtains, making his honey brown skin appear golden. “i’ll make you a bowl. caramel and rainbow sprinkles?”
“with a cherry on top, please.” you remind him. you scooch backwards on his bed and make yourself more comfortable.
“yes ma’am.”
you and michael recline side by side, bowls of ice cream on your laps. he made it just the way you like. you enjoy it as a nice treat every once in a while, but you are convinced he would live off of the stuff if he could. on the tv plays an episode of the three stooges—michael’s choosing, of course. neither one of you say much, simply enjoying each other’s company, the silence only interrupted by your giggles at the characters doing something stupid and the clink of your spoons hitting the porcelain bowls.
when you both finish eating you take both of the bowls and place them on the nightstand. when you turn back around you find michael no longer looking at the tv but instead directly at you.
“everything alright, mikey?”
“yeah, i’m okay…i just wanna say thank you for spending time with me like this. i know these aren’t typical activities for people our age, but… i really appreciate you doing them with me.”
“oh michael,” you say, tilting your head to the side and smiling sweetly. “anytime spent with you is an amazing time.”
you can see his eyes light up. “you really mean that?”
you nod your head ‘yes.’ he swallows and licks his lips. it looks like he wants to say something else but he stops himself. “um, y-you wanna watch flintstones now?” you can tell that’s not what he wanted to say but you don’t push. you nod your head ‘yes’ again.
michael scrambles for the remote and switches to the cartoon channel. you both focus your attention back on the tv, the air between you a little different now. a few minutes in his arm comes to rest around your shoulders again. you snuggle into his side, wondering what was on his mind.
you watch two episodes of flintstones with michael. the setting sun tells you it’s getting later in the day. while you were finished with all of your homework for the week, you did plan on getting a headstart on a paper you had due in a few weeks.
“michael, i think it’s time for me to get back home now.” you tell him begrudgingly, sitting up. michael immediately begins to pout. “aw, c’mon. it’s still bright outside!”
“i know, but i have a paper i want to start on.”
“hey, you told me you didn’t have any assignments left.”
“i’m working ahead, mikey. this 4.0 gpa isn’t gonna maintain itself.”
michael stands and holds out his hand for you. you take hold of it and stand as well, but your foot gets a little caught on the duvet. you stumble, heading straight for the floor, but michael is right there to catch you.
he holds you up as you find your balance again. he’s extremely close, and you know you shouldn’t look at him ‘cause it’s gonna make you lose all your sense, however you can’t help yourself. he’s staring at you intently, concern all over his face. he’s so beautiful.
“you okay?”
“y-yes. thank you for catching me.”
“of course…i-i’m gonna go call bill and tell him to pull the car around.”
“okay…”
a few seconds pass by and he still hasn’t let you go. he’s just staring at you, again looking like he wants to tell you something, but he’s stopping himself.
“...michael?”
“yes?” he licks his lips. you ignore the flutter it makes you feel in your stomach.
“bill? the car?”
“oh, right, right. um, i’ll be right back.”
he reluctantly lets you go and leaves out to do what he said. you watch him as he goes. straight away you miss his warmth, the feeling of him holding you. you’re not sure what’s up with him all of a sudden. whatever it is, you hope you can get to the bottom of it before you’re back home.
you hate how quickly time seems to go by when you’re with michael. on your way out of the house, a quick glance at the clock in the hall told you that you’d been over for four hours already. it just goes to say again that you really enjoy each other’s company.
michael is walking with his head tilted down a bit, his hands shoved into his pockets and a blank expression on his face. you find it adorable how sad he gets when it’s time for you to go home. it tugs on your heart at the same time, because you truly are his only friend.
bill is waiting in the car when you get outside. michael opens the door for you, still not saying anything. you get in and he follows suit, except this time he intentionally leaves the middle seat open. he’s well within his rights to sit wherever he wants, but you can’t lie—it stings a little bit. especially when he stares straight out the window like he’s trying to ignore you. was he upset?
“going so soon?” bill asks you from the front seat, cranking the car.
you swallow hard, hoping your voice comes out normal. “yeah, i got a paper i wanna get started on.”
“ah, college girl doin’ college things. we goin’ back to your house or the campus?”
“just my house, please.”
“you got it.”
you look down at your lap and play with your fingers. your mind swirls with the many possible reasons why michael is suddenly being this way. maybe you beat him too many times at mancala.
the both of you look at bill when the car shuts off. he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door to get out. “hang tight, folks. i left my wallet in the garage.” he tells you both.
he shuts the door behind himself and the silence between you and michael becomes deafening. with bill gone you see it as a perfect opportunity to try and talk with him.
“michael, is everything okay?”
no response.
“can you say something, please?” you push, a little more stern.
still nothing.
now irritated, you turn your body the opposite way, huffing and crossing your arms. you absolutely weren’t anticipating getting the silent treatment from him, seemingly for no reason as well. “fine, be like that.”
you focused on the main garage doors, hoping to see bill walk through them. not even ten seconds later, you hear shuffling from his side, then his presence right next to you.
“i’m sorry, baby. please don’t be upset.”
in your stubbornness you refuse to look his way. using a finger under your chin he gently turns your head towards him. “please.”
“what’s your issue?” you demand, trying your hardest to look angry and not literally become putty in his hands.
michael sighs. “i’m just really gonna miss you, s’all. and i wish my schedule wasn’t so crazy so we could see each other more often. i’m sorry for giving you the cold-shoulder. you know how i get sometimes.”
he appears genuinely remorseful for his actions. as he should, you think, deciding to forgive him. you give him a weak smile.
“i’m gonna miss you, too, pumpkin. and i feel the same way, but i understand.”
michael smiles back at you briefly before looking down. you place your hand on his knee to get his attention again. “is that all you have to say?”
michael takes notice of your features; your deep brown eyes, the curl of your lashes. the slope of your nose and the glossy pink of your lips. the scent of your perfume in the small confines of the backseat is clouding his senses. he can’t stop himself from cupping your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. what he says next completely catches you off guard.
“you’re so pretty, i could stare at you for days…do you know how beautiful you are?”
you blush at the bold compliment. you don’t really know how to respond. it wasn’t unusual for him to be flirty, per se, be he’s never been this direct before.
he almost looks hypnotized, his eyes sparkling with something you can’t quite decipher. “i’m sorry, i just…it’s getting really hard for me to act like i’m not crazy about you.”
you’re hyperaware of the lack of space between you too. “michael, what are you trying to say?”
“i’m saying, i can’t just be your best friend anymore. these feelings i have on the inside, they’re just too much. i tried to write them into a song, i talked to my mother and bill about them. i even asked louie what i should do.”
you both giggle at the thought of his pet llama listening to him talk about you. he takes hold of both of your hands into his own.
“they all told me to get it off my chest, so… i think it’s high time i told you that… i love you.”
“you love me?” you repeat, not believing your ears.
“i love you, girl. i’ve met a lot of people in my life, but no one has ever made me feel the way you do. you’re kind, you’re smart, funny. you care about me so deeply… somewhere along the way, i started to see you as not only my friend, but someone i want and need by my side. it’s like, when you’re around me, the sun shines brighter and flowers smell sweeter, you know? you make my days better, mama, and i can’t hide it anymore.” michael beams, sincerity dripping from his every word.
your heart thumps loudly within your chest. a rush of warmth washes over you as you consider everything he just said. here he was, your best friend, confessing his love for you on a random friday night, completely unprompted. you feel as if you could laugh, cry, and scream all at once.
and he’s still not done. “you support me in everything i do, all while working towards your own goals. i feel so at peace with you. i don’t have to pretend to be anything i’m not; you still accept me as i am. you’re wonderful and incredible and i love you… and, i guess the question now is, do you feel the same way?” he breathes, squeezing your hands and waiting for your response. except you don’t get to respond because bill opens the front driver-side door, having found his wallet. it startles you both.
bill casually gets in, cranking the car up again. he looks at you two through the rear view mirror. “am i interrupting something?”
“sorry bill. we’ll be a few more minutes, actually.” michael quickly pushes his door open and pulls you out the car with him. you both hurry back to his room. his admission was heavy on your mind, and you kept replaying his words in your head. he loves you. your best friend just told you that he loves you.
when you arrive in his room michael gets shy acting again, closing the door and taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “i, um… i pictured myself telling you all that in a much more romantic setting, by the way. i’m sorry.”
he loves you. he loves you. feeling emboldened by this reality, you walk over to him and stand between his legs. you take his hands and place them on your waist. he looks up at you with his big wide eyes expectantly. you cup his face with your hands, and, mustering up every ounce of courage you can, you lean down and close the distance.
tingles run down your body the second your lips meet his. the shock and realization over what you just did makes you pull away. you survey his face for even the slightest inclination of discomfort. all you’re met with is a look of desire and eagerness.
michael brings his lips to yours once more and tightens his hold on you. he kisses you slowly and methodically, like he’s given lots of thought on how he’d kiss you if he ever got the opportunity. your mouths move in rhythm. he tastes vaguely like ice cream. every ounce of tension in your body melts away. you feel lightheaded, but also relieved in a sense.
“michael..” you manage to whisper in between kisses.
“i’m here, baby.” he whispers back, planting kisses on your cheek and down your neck. you shiver at the sensation.
“i love you, too.” you tell him, and you mean it. you love him and his kind, gentle heart. you love his smile and his eyes and his sweet voice. you love how soft he is with you, how encouraging he is, how he cherishes you and the time you spend together. you love him dearly, and you’re glad it’s finally all out in the air.
he kisses you one last time before pulling you down to sit on his lap. he rests his forehead against yours. a wide smile stretches across his face. “you have no idea how happy i am to hear you say that.”
you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “my girl, my lady, my world.” you hear him mumble. you could stay like that forever, wrapped in his arms. in fact, you plan on it. you grip the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. he smiles against your mouth before he deepens it.
that essay, along with bill, would have to wait just a little longer.
a/n: this is the first fic i've wrote + posted in maaayybe 10 years. if you've made it this far thank you so so much for reading ily
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