FEBRUARY 25, 1986

you stand backstage at the 28th annual grammy awards with the soft hum of the audience drifting through the curtains like a warm tide, the air buzzing with the kind of electricity that only nights like this can hold, and you breathe in slowly as you go over your lines for the third time, whispering them under your breath while your fingers trace the cue cards even though you already know every word by heart, your pulse steady but alert because you want everything to be perfect, not just for the show but because you know he is somewhere out there in the crowd watching you with those dark eyes that always make your stomach flutter, and the thought alone sends a quiet warmth through your chest as you straighten your posture and prepare to step into the lights.

the stage manager gives you a gentle nod and you walk out into the golden glow of the auditorium, the applause rising like a wave that washes over you as you smile at the sea of faces, the cameras, the glittering gowns and tuxedos, the shimmering set pieces that catch the light like jewels, and you let your voice carry with practiced grace as you welcome everyone, your tone warm and confident even though your heart is beating a little faster than usual because you know he is somewhere in the audience listening to every word. "good evening everyone and welcome to the twenty eighth annual grammy awards, we are so excited to celebrate the incredible music and artistry that defined this past year, thank you all for being here tonight."

you hold the microphone with both hands as the applause settles, the lights softening just enough to let you see the first few rows of the audience, and your gaze flickers instinctively toward the spot where you know he is seated, catching only the faint outline of his silhouette, the familiar tilt of his head, the quiet stillness of his posture that always gives him away, and even from this distance you feel the invisible thread between you tighten, a secret connection woven through months of stolen moments and whispered conversations and careful glances that no one else has ever noticed.

you continue with your lines, introducing the first categories of the night, your voice steady and smooth as you guide the audience through the ceremony, and each time you step offstage you feel the adrenaline settle into your bones like a soft hum, the backstage crew moving around you with practiced precision, the sound of applause rising and falling like a heartbeat behind the curtains, and you take a moment to breathe, to center yourself, to remind yourself that you are here to work even though your heart keeps drifting toward him like a compass that cannot help but point north.

when it is time for you to present the next award, you step back into the lights with a smile that feels natural and warm, the audience greeting you with another wave of applause, and you read the nominees with clear, confident rhythm before opening the envelope with a practiced flourish, your voice lifting as you announce the winner, the crowd erupting as the popular male artist makes his way toward the stage with a bright grin and an energy that fills the room, his excitement contagious as he climbs the steps and approaches you with open arms.

you expect a handshake or a quick hug, something simple and professional, but instead he leans in with a warm smile and presses a friendly kiss to your cheek, his hand resting lightly on your arm as he murmurs his thanks for your support on the charity project you worked on together, and you feel your breath catch in surprise as the audience reacts with soft laughter and applause, your cheeks warming as you laugh awkwardly and try to keep your composure, reminding yourself that it is harmless, that it is friendly, that it is nothing more than a gesture of appreciation in front of a room full of people.

you step aside to give him space for his acceptance speech, your smile polite and steady even though your mind is still catching up with the unexpected moment, and as the lights shift to focus on him you let your gaze drift toward the audience again, searching instinctively for the one face that matters most, and when you find him your breath catches because michael isn’t just tense, he’s wound so tightly he looks like he might snap if anyone so much as brushes against him. his jaw isn’t only clenched, it’s locked, the muscle ticking beneath his skin as if he’s fighting every instinct in his body not to get up and drag you off that stage, his eyes don’t just stay on you, they burn into you, dark and sharp and unblinking that sends a shiver down your spine as his fingers curl harder against his knee, knuckles whitening, breath tightening in his chest.

he tries to hide it, he really does, but you know him too well, you know the way his emotions flicker beneath the surface like sparks waiting to catch fire, and you can see the jealousy simmering in the tightness of his shoulders, the way he shifts in his seat as if trying to shake off the image of another man’s lips on your cheek, the way his gaze keeps darting between you and the artist onstage as if replaying the moment over and over in his mind, each repetition tightening something inside him until he looks like he might burst from the pressure alone.

the artist continues his speech, completely unaware of the storm brewing in michael’s chest, thanking his team and the fans and the people who supported the charity project, his voice warm and enthusiastic as the audience applauds again, and you keep your expression calm even though you can practically feel the jealousy radiating off him, thick and hot, filling the space between you even from across the room. it’s in the way he won’t blink, the way his lips press into a thin line, the way his foot taps once, twice, three times before he forces it still. he’s trying to stay composed for the cameras, for the crowd, for the moment, but his eyes give him away completely. they’re dark with something possessive, something wounded, something that says he didn’t expect to see another man’s mouth anywhere near you tonight.

when the segment ends and you walk offstage, your heart is still fluttering from the intensity of his stare, your mind replaying the moment in the same way you know he is, and as you step into the dim backstage hallway you press a hand to your cheek where the kiss landed, not because it meant anything but because you know it meant something to him, and the thought alone makes your chest tighten with a mix of affection and worry as you wait for the next cue, the distant sound of applause echoing through the walls like a reminder that the night is far from over.

you lean against the backstage wall for a moment, letting the cool surface steady you as you go over your next lines, your voice soft as you rehearse under your breath, and even though you are alone for now you can still feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin, a silent promise that the night will only grow more intense from here, and you close your eyes for a moment, breathing in the charged air of the grammy awards, knowing that the real storm has only just begun.

you stay backstage for a few minutes after your last presentation, letting the noise of the audience settle into a distant hum as you breathe in the dim hallway, the soft glow of the backstage bulbs warming your skin while you rehearse your next lines under your breath, your voice low and steady as you try to shake off the lingering awkwardness from earlier, your fingers brushing your cheek again even though you keep telling yourself it was nothing, just a friendly gesture, just a moment that should not matter, yet you can still feel the ghost of michael’s stare like a hand closing around your ribs, tightening with every breath you take.

the stage manager calls your name again and you straighten your shoulders, smoothing your gown as you step toward the curtain, your heart beating a little faster because this category is bigger, heavier, more important, and you want to deliver it perfectly, especially knowing he is out there somewhere watching you with that quiet intensity that always makes your pulse skip, and as you step into the lights again the applause rises like a warm tide, the golden glow washing over you as you smile at the audience with practiced grace.

you hold the microphone with both hands, grounding yourself in the familiar weight of it as you begin to speak, your voice steady and warm as you welcome the audience back from the short break, the cameras gliding across the room like silent birds while the crowd settles into their seats, and you let your gaze sweep gently across the front rows, your eyes catching the faint outline of his silhouette again, the soft shimmer of his jacket, the stillness of his posture that tells you he has not relaxed since the moment he saw that kiss.

you inhale slowly, letting the moment settle before you continue, your voice carrying clearly through the auditorium. "it is my honor to present one of the most meaningful categories of the night, a category that celebrates the power of music to move us, to unite us, and to change the world. these are the nominees for song of the year." the screens behind you light up with clips and audio, the audience reacting with soft murmurs and applause as each nominee appears, and you stand poised and elegant, your heart thudding quietly beneath your ribs as you hold the envelope in your hand.

when the final nominee fades and the applause settles, you open the envelope with careful precision, your breath catching for a moment as you read the name printed inside, and you lift your gaze to the audience with a soft smile that feels both warm and electric. "and the grammy for song of the year goes to… we are the world, michael jackson and lionel richie."

the room erupts into applause, cheers rising like a wave that shakes the floor beneath your feet, and you look toward the aisle where he stands, his expression unreadable for a moment as he rises from his seat, but then his eyes lock onto yours and everything inside you stills because he is not looking at the audience, he is not looking at the cameras, he is not even looking at the stage itself, he is looking only at you, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he begins to walk toward you with a new calmness that feels too controlled, too deliberate, like a storm holding itself together by sheer force of will, and beside him lionel richie rises as well, moving with him up the aisle like it’s the most natural thing in the world, smiling at the crowd but clearly aware of where this is going, and as they reach the steps lionel goes first, pulling you into a warm, effortless side hug that makes you laugh softly through the shock of it all, his hand patting your shoulder in genuine pride as he murmurs something you barely catch before he steps back with an approving grin.

you swallow hard as he moves toward you, each step drawing the world in tighter until everything else fades into a soft blur. your fingers clamp around the envelope, the paper bending under the tension, but his eyes stay fixed on yours with a steady focus that makes the crowd feel distant and unimportant. the air seems to shift as he gets closer, warm and dense, settling over your skin like something quietly electric.

when he reaches you, he slips an arm around your waist with a certainty that steals your breath. his touch isn’t forceful, just sure, like he’s anchoring you in place without needing to say a word. he looks down at you with his head tilted slightly to the side, studying you with a softness that makes your chest tighten. his teeth catch lightly on his lower lip, a small, unguarded gesture that gives away how much this moment matters to him. and even through all that tenderness, you can still sense the jealousy flickering in his eyes, a faint shadow beneath the warmth. it is not harsh or angry, just a quiet ache he cannot hide, something that tightens his hold on your waist for a heartbeat. his hand squeezes gently, not enough to hurt, just enough to let you feel the emotion he is trying so hard to keep contained.

then he leans in and kisses you.

not a quick peck, not a shy brush of lips, but a soft, sure, deliberate kiss that melts the entire room into silence for a heartbeat before the audience explodes into gasps and cheers and applause, the sound crashing over you like a tidal wave as your eyes flutter shut for a moment, your heart racing wildly as his lips linger just long enough to make it clear that this is not a mistake, not a slip, not a friendly gesture, but a declaration, a reveal, a claim spoken without words in front of the entire music industry.

when he pulls back, he gives you a small, playful wink that makes your stomach flip, his hand brushing your waist one last time before he turns to accept the award from you, his fingers brushing yours with a warmth as he takes the grammy into his hands, the crowd still roaring with excitement as he steps toward the microphone with that soft, shy smile that always makes people melt.

he waits for the applause to settle, his posture relaxed but his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds with a quiet possessiveness that only you can read, and when he finally speaks his voice is gentle, warm, and full of gratitude. "thank you, thank you so much." he pauses as the applause rises again, his smile widening before he continues. "i want to thank lionel, first of all, for being such an incredible partner in creating this song. he is a true friend and a true artist, and i am so grateful for everything we were able to do together."

he shifts the award in his hands, his voice softening with sincerity. "i want to thank every artist who came together for this project, everyone who gave their time and their hearts to something bigger than all of us. this song was made with love, with hope, and with the belief that we can make the world a better place when we stand together."

the audience applauds again, "and of course, i want to thank the fans, because none of this would be possible without your love and your support. you inspire me every single day, and i am so grateful for you."

he pauses, his smile turning a little mischievous, his eyes sliding toward you again with a glimmer that makes your breath catch. "and, um… i guess i should also say…" he lifts the grammy slightly, his tone light but unmistakably pointed. "some people should be a little more careful about kissing another man's lady."

the audience bursts into laughter, cheers rising as people clap and whistle, the cameras catching your face as your cheeks burn with embarrassment and surprise, your hand lifting instinctively to cover your mouth as you try not to laugh, and michael just smiles, that soft, cheeky smile that tells you he knows exactly what he is doing, exactly how flustered he is making you, and he is enjoying every second of it.

he finishes with a warm, humble thank you before stepping away from the microphone, and as he walks back toward you he gives you another small wink, his fingers brushing your waist again as he passes, the touch subtle but full of meaning, and you feel your heart flutter helplessly as he heads back down the steps, the audience still buzzing with excitement from the unexpected reveal.

you stand there for a moment, trying to steady your breathing as the cameras cut away and the stage manager ushers you offstage, your mind spinning, your cheeks still warm, your heart pounding with a mix of shock and affection and something deeper, something that feels like it has been waiting to surface for a long time, and as you step into the dim backstage hallway again you know he will find you soon, and you know the conversation waiting between you will be one you will never forget.

the hallway feels calmer than the stage, dimmer and softer, the noise of the grammy crowd fading into a distant echo as you step into the quiet. you’re still warm from the lights, still breathless from everything that happened, your mind replaying the moment he kissed you in front of everyone like a scene you can’t quite believe is real. you press your hand lightly to your lips, trying to steady yourself, when you hear him behind you, his footsteps slow and sure, carrying that familiar mix of confidence and emotion that always gives him away.

when you turn, he’s already watching you, his grammy tucked under one arm, his shoulders relaxed but his eyes still burning with that jealousy he hasn’t shaken off yet. he walks toward you with a softness that contradicts the storm you know is still swirling inside him, and when he reaches you he stops close enough that you can feel the warmth of him settle around you like a blanket. his voice is gentle when he speaks, even though his eyes are still sharp with emotion. "you okay baby?" he asks quietly, his hand brushing your arm in a way that makes your breath catch. "i didn’t mean to overwhelm you out there."

you nod, though your heart is still racing, and he studies your face for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort. when he finds none, his expression shifts, softening into something warm but edged with that quiet, simmering jealousy he’s trying so hard to keep under control. "i just… i couldn’t sit there and watch that," he murmurs, "him kissin' you like that. i know it was friendly, i know it didn’t mean anything, but it still…" he trails off, shaking his head slightly, his jaw tightening for a moment before he exhales slowly. "it still bothered me."

you whisper his name softly, and he gives a small smile, one that’s both apologetic and a little proud, like he knows he’s being ridiculous but he also knows he’d do it all again. "i’m not gonna pretend i wasn’t jealous," he says, his voice low and honest. "i was. i still am." he leans in a little, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "but i’m glad everyone knows now. i’m glad they know who my woman is... the woman i get to love."

your cheeks warm instantly, and he notices, his smile turning a little smug but still gentle, still full of affection. "guess i made the night a little more interesting." he adds, his tone playful but certain. lifting the grammy slightly, his eyes glimmering with pride.

you roll your eyes at him, but you’re smiling, and he sees it, his expression softening again as he cups your jaw with one hand, his thumb brushing your skin with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. "you did amazing tonight," he whispers. "i’m so proud of you."

you tell him you’re proud of him too, and his smile grows, warm and bright, the kind of smile that lights up his whole face. he glances down at the grammy in his hand, then back at you, and the warmth in his eyes deepens. "i got my award," he says softly. "and i got you. that’s all i wanted tonight."

he leans in closer, his voice dropping into something playful, something that makes your stomach twist. "c’mon," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "let’s go home so i can show you how jealous i was."

your eyes widen and you slap his chest lightly, your voice a shocked whisper. "michael!" he laughs softly, the sound warm and sweet, his shoulders shaking just a little as he catches your hand gently, his fingers curling around yours with an ease that makes your heart flutter.

"i’m teasing," he says, though the sparkle in his eyes tells you he’s enjoying every second of your reaction. "but i do wanna get you out of here."

you’re still flustered, still warm, but you’re smiling, and he sees it, his own smile stretching wider as he gives your hand a gentle tug. he leads you down the hallway toward the exit, his grammy tucked under his arm, his fingers laced with yours like he’s never letting go. when he pushes open the door to the cool night air, the limo waiting just outside, he glances back at you with a look so full of pride and happiness it makes your chest swell.

he’s got his grammy. he’s got his girl. and he looks like he’s floating.

you squeeze his hand, your smile soft and full, and he squeezes back, his voice low and warm as he whispers, "let’s go home."

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Michael and you had a ritual. Every Friday night, you’d head over to his house in Hayvenhurst, and the entire night was spent watching movies, with countless snacks and bowls of ice cream, as well as the occasional rounds of board games. You were both very comfortable in each other’s presence, having known each other for so long. After a night of innocent fun, it’d turn into sleepovers that were mostly planned but mostly happened because you both dropped dead without realizing.

At least it was innocent fun, until one night.

Michael had been thinking a lot lately. He’d been made fun of by his brothers earlier that week, teased for not having his first kiss, which then turned into being teased for being so inexperienced with sexual acts. He was never in any rush for it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it now.

When you arrived at his house that Friday, he couldn’t stop his mind from traveling into dirty places. His eyes would flicker to your lips every time you licked them, or every time you bit them. He also couldn’t stop glancing at your legs, it was like you knew it was the perfect time to torture him, as you’d shown up in a flowy and short sundress. He tried to rid himself of these thoughts, he really had.

But when he asked what game you were in the mood for, you suggested twister. Usually, he was always really excited for it, but with the thoughts that were polluting his mind, he didn’t know if he could control himself being that close to you.

But he could never say no to you. Which was how you ended up the way you did. As Michael’s luck seems to have it, you were currently bent over right in front of him. Your right foot on green, your left foot on blue, and both hands on yellow. He tried not to look down, as his right foot was also on green, and his left foot was also on blue. It was just a matter of leaning a bit forward and Michael’s crotch would be right against your ass.

He looked up at the ceiling trying to gather his thoughts before he looked down. He was looking for the spin wheel before he finally looked down at you. The sight of your perfect ass so close to him made him grow hard in an instant, his cock straining against his pants. He groaned quietly and closed his eyes.

“I lost,” He blurt out, stepping off of the board immediately. Before you could stand up right and maybe see his predicament, he sat on his bed and covered himself with a pillow. When you did start standing up right, Michael caught sight of your panties under your dress. It was like the universe was testing him. He closed his eyes again and shook his head.

You giggle and look at him, before taking a seat next to him. “That was quick, you’re usually really good at twister,” you tease, oblivious to Michael’s problem. He shrugged and smiled at you, sighing out. “Let’s just watch a movie, you pick,” he signaled towards the television with his head, knowing he couldn’t move the pillow, much less get up.

When you finally picked a film, you both sat in comfortable silence. You were engrossed in the film, the popcorn bowl he’d prepared before you got here in your lap. Michael wasn’t paying attention though. He couldn’t stop thinking about what his brothers said, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about how good you’d looked bent over in front of him. Suddenly he had an idea, and he knew he could trust you enough to at least ask.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” He speaks out, before he can chicken out. You look over to him and smile, readjusting your position so you were facing him. “Of course, anything.” You looked so pretty. He could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.

“Well, I-” He wasn’t exactly sure how to go about this in a way that wouldn’t make him sound like a creep. “I’ve been thinking about how… how I haven’t had my first kiss,” he nervously mumbled, you just nodded and gave him a smile that told him he could keep going. “And, and I was just thinking that it’s about time I do.”

He was a stuttering mess. He knew you wouldn’t judge him, but he was afraid of rejection. You, on the other hand, were praying he would ask to kiss you. You’d been smitten with him for a while but were always too scared to say anything. “What is it, Michael?” You asked, voice soft as ever, after a couple of seconds of silence. “I was wondering… if you could be my first kiss,” he finally spits out.

You were both flushed, excited beyond belief. You chuckled softly, cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. His eyes darted all over your face, searching for any sign that you were uncomfortable. There wasn’t any.

“I would love to be your first.” Michael couldn’t believe his ears. He thought he was dreaming. “R-really?!” He asked, causing you to nod your head. You slowly got up to your knees and got closer to him, softly laying your hands on his shoulders. You leaned in until your face was right in front of his. “Is this okay?” Your voice shook with nerves. He just nodded fast and multiple times. You slowly leaned in further until both of your lips came into contact. Both of you let out soft gasps, as you pecked each other’s lips once, twice, and three times.

When you pulled away, he had a bashful smile on his face and he was struggling to make eye contact. “Can- can we do that again?” He whispered, his hands coming up to your waist. You nodded gently, before moving to straddle his hips. That caught him off guard. You settled each of your knees at either side of him, hovering to make sure you weren’t making contact. Then you leaned in and kissed him again. This time it was longer and much more passionate. He took the lead, and you gasped when his tongue grazed your lips.

That gave him the opportunity to kiss into your mouth. Your tongues made contact and you both sighed into one another. Lost in the kiss, you’d unknowingly lowered yourself onto his lap. Your clothed cunt had come into contact with his growing bulge, making you both gasp and pull away from the kiss. Michael immediately panicked.

“I’m so- so sorry, I just-” You just shook your head, cutting off his rambling. “It’s okay, Michael. I promise,” you whispered, your eyes were hooded and you leaned back in to kiss him with new found hunger. One you both shared. His hands gripped your waist tighter, as you rolled your hips into his. Your core was growing wetter by the second, and you were sure that with each grind of your hips your arousal was leaving a wet patch on your panties and the front of Michael’s pants. He whimpered into your mouth as you continued your movements on his lap. You started kissing down to his jaw and then his neck, and he thrusted his hips up into you. He just couldn’t help himself. You both let out gasps of pleasure at the feeling. “Can I- is it okay if I just take my pants off?” He whimpered. You moaned softly at the need in his voice and nodded. You got off his lap as he unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, pulling them down to his ankles, before reaching for you again.

“W-we don’t have to go further, I just want to f-feel you closer,” The quiver and whimper in his voice was only doing more to turn you on. “Okay,” you whimper back, sighing at the feeling when he pulled you back down onto his bulge, still covered but more prominent now. Knowing the only thing stopping him from slipping inside you was both of your underwear was driving you insane. You felt the head of his cock nudge right against your clit, and all you could do was throw your head back.

This gave Michael the opportunity to kiss and suck on your neck, leaving kiss marks wherever he could. He couldn’t get enough of you, of your noises, the way you looked, and how wet you felt even through your underwear. “So good,” he whimpered out, after the tip of his cock grazed your entrance. This was when he got the nasty idea. He maneuvered his hips so that his cock was aligned with your entrance, and he slowly slid the tip in, your and his underwear acting as barriers. But the feeling was nonetheless toe curling.

“Michael,” you gasped out. He just looked at you, with a pussy drunk look in his eyes. “I know, I know. I know I said we didn’t have to go any further, but I can’t help it baby. I need to feel you, please. I’m so close and I just want to cum inside you,” You couldn’t help but just breathe heavily at his begging, this is a side of Michael you’d never seen before. But you loved it. You nodded, feeling your heartbeat thrash as he slightly pulled down the band of his underwear, his cock springing free. Your mouth watered at the sight, your eyes growing wide. It was a lot bigger than it felt. He noticed your expression and cupped your face with one hand, tilting your head to look at him.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He was ever the gentleman, regardless of how far you’d already gone. You smiled and nodded. “Use your words, sweet girl,” he whispered.

“It’s okay, I want this,” you whisper back, and he bites his lip letting out a soft groan. He reaches his hand down to move your underwear to the side, nothing coming between your cunt and his cock now. He brought the tip of his cock to your clit, letting your arousal coat it. It was messy and it felt so good. He decided to test the waters, once again tilting his hips to insert just the tip. You both let out noises of pleasure and threw your heads back.

Michael kept you there, just his tip inside, but you wanted- no, needed more. So you took it upon yourself to slide all the way down, holding onto his shoulders to help you settle down. You both moaned, him at your gummy walls and you at the way he stretched you deliciously. “Nghh, so tight,” he muttered out, eyes rolling back into his head. You knew you wouldn’t last, and neither would he. He tentatively brought a hand up to circle your clit, making you gasp out in pleasure. “Don’t stop, Michael. Please,” If it hadn’t been for how turned on you were, you would’ve cringed at how needy you sounded.

“I wasn’t planning on it. I’m so close baby, d’you feel it? You feel what you do to me?” You were shocked, to say the least, at Michael’s filthy words. “Michael, please, fill me up,” was all you could think to say. Michael couldn’t believe this was real. He gripped your hips and thrusted his hips upwards, reaching that spot inside you that left you seeing white spots. The sound of skin slapping along with the filthy noises you were both making helped you both reach your limits. Your back arched and toes curled as you reached your high, it washed over you as Michael continued to thrust up into you, helping you through your orgasm while still chasing his.

“Fuck, ngh,” He lets out as he finally cums inside you, sticky ropes of cum filling you up. You whimper feeling it filling you up and he couldn’t help but keep thrusting. He groaned, looking down and seeing the mess that you were both making, eyes rolling at the white ring of cum at the base of his cock.

You both breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath. But neither of you moved, his softening cock still inside you. He looked up at you and brushed your slightly sweaty hair away from your face and behind your ears. He smiled as you smiled at him, leaning in to give you a soft kiss. When he finally pulled out, you both winced before you collapsed on him. You were both spent and content. Your head on his chest as he rubbed your back and kissed your head from time to time.

“Thank you,” he whispers, to which you just respond, “my pleasure.” You both had the biggest smiles on your faces.

You both knew things would never be the same, and neither of you minded.