‘the girl was bad, the girl was dangerous’

One thing Michael knew to be wary of was taking things from fans. It had been drilled into his brain since he’d been alive to not take things from strangers generally, but since he and his brothers started garnering more attention, the rule became infinitely more important. A matter of his safety at times.

He adored his fans of course, he’d give them any and everything if he could, but he knew the nature of some of them— that they had the capability to be a little dangerous. Just as anyone in the world could be.

And of course he wanted to give everyone a piece of himself, to make each and every person who supported him feel seen and special. Especially if they were pretty.

It wasn’t uncommon for fans to want to gift Michael things to express their adoration. They loved what he did, so when a young woman came backstage to meet the brothers after a concert, a little intricately decorated white box in hand, it wasn’t all that suspicious.

Michael took the box happily, thanking them with that warm and overly bright smile he gave only to women, along with a hug that lasted far longer than just friendly.

You’d noticed the exchange from where you were perched across the room and watched the two interact. The flirting was obvious to anyone with eyes. And she was gorgeous, a fact you were sure hadn’t slipped his mind. Just his type.

The whole exchange made something in the corner of your eye twitch and as if he could feel you staring, Michael’s gaze snapped to yours curiously. You tried to school your features into something unbothered and he raised a brow at you, asking a silent question.

You okay?

You two did that often, spoke to each other without words from across the room.

You ignored him this time, turning your gaze away to look elsewhere, but from the corner of your eye, you noticed him lean in and whisper something to the girl. It was probably due to the sudden noise spike in the room but you’d guessed that probably wasn’t all.

A moment later he excused himself, gathering the box in his hands and trudging through the small crowd of fans, press, and security gathered backstage. A few tried to stop him, grabbing at the sleeves of his outfit for his attention but he eventually made it to you, a sly and overly sweet smile on his face.

He was still all sweaty from the show, curls sticking to his forehead, the sweat and hair product mixed and dripping from his neck.

“What’s that?” you asked, unable to hide your nosyness as he sidled up next to you, placing the box down gingerly. It really was beautiful. You’d never have suspected what was inside.

“It was supposed to be a Valentine’s gift.” he pulled at the ribbon holding the top in place and peered inside. “Why, you jealous?”

Your response was quick. “Not even a little.”

Nestled neatly in the box was a dozen individually wrapped roses, arranged in a small bouquet. It even had little dried flowers and other greenery tucked between each rose, making it look all the more real.

You would have thought they were real if not for the little card inside. You plucked it out holding it up in front of Michael.

“Enticing Eternity Chocolate.” you read aloud flipping it over. You didn’t recognize the name printed— it being some Belgian chocolate brand.

“It’s pretty.” Michael remarked, taking one out, lifting it to his nose to smell it.

“Michael Jackson I know you aren’t about to eat that.” you looked at him like he was crazy, eyes squinted, a disappointed frown marring your features. He could be so careless.

He scoffed, not meeting your eyes before placing the chocolate back down. “No, ‘course not.”

“Liar, you know better than to eat that. God knows what’s in it.” you wrinkled your nose in a way Michael found cute.

“If I were to guess… I’d say milk chocolate, white chocolate, dark chocolate and caramel.” he listed, voice light and playful. He was trying to get that reaction from you that he loved so much. And you took the bait.

You pinched his hip and he jumped a little. “Smartass. Y’know what I mean.”

He leaned over the table, placing a hand right by your hip, eyes looking into yours enticingly. “C’mon try some, they even got your favorite, raspberry crème.” He held the bloom to your lips.

“Nu uh, I’m not eatin’ that Mike.” you crossed your arms, trying to ignore his sudden closeness. He always got close like this, not having a gauge for most peoples personal boundaries. Not that you two really had any.

“What if I fed it to ya’?” he pressed a little closer, his usually bright eyes turning a different shade, still blown wide with the adrenaline of performing. He loved to tease and you knew that. Still didn’t stop the thought of Michael’s fingers in your mouth, melted chocolate dripping off and onto your tongue while he fed it to you.

He seemed to see the moment your mind wandered off because his jaw clenched slightly like he was holding something back.

“Michael! Get back ova here boy, you not done.” the spell was immediately broken by his father’s voice. You both tore your eyes from each others looking back towards Joseph standing a few feet away, patience clearly wearing thin.

“Yes I’m comin’.” Michael spoke respectfully before rolling his gaze back around to you, looking at you as if you could do something to save him from his dad. You wished.

“Lord give me strength.”

You pressed a hand against Michael’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, offering a reassuring smile. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

The smile Michael returned back was much more strained but you appreciated the effort. “See you later? Y’ still comin’ over tonight right?”

“And risk missing movie night? Never.” Michael grinned and turned, offering you a wink before disappearing back into the crowded meet and greet.

What you didn’t know was that tonight for Michael wasn’t supposed to be just an ordinary scheduled movie night. He had a plan.

Tonight was the night he’d confess his feelings for you, and hopefully, ask you to be his girlfriend. You’d been friends since you were babies, with you knowing him since before he was Michael Jackson of the Jackson 5 turned Jackson’s.

You knew that little boy from Gary, who wasn’t often allowed to play outside and who came to school sad about what was going on at home. You’ve been a person, aside from his mom, who he’d come to for comfort for a long time. And that bond you shared only grew with you both.

He didn’t really start noticing the turn his feelings had taken from friendly until his adolescent years. Suddenly things were changing. He was changing, you were changing. Becoming your own beautiful person, and his admiration for you only grew.

He started noticing how much he liked being around you, how much he liked when you touched him, or drew him into a hug.

And if he noticed, it wasn’t long before other boys started noticing too, but thankfully, you didn’t pay them any mind. Didn’t stop Michael from being agitated when you’d smile in some guys face or hang out with other boys.

And that feeling never left as you both creeped into your adult years. He still felt the same about you. Loved what his heart did when he thought about or was near you, which was a lot.

He didn’t have a single clue if you felt the same. He knew you probably better than anyone but you didn’t wear your heart on your sleeve like he did. If you liked someone, it was impossible to tell unless you outright said it. You were honest and blunt like that. And you’d given no indication that you felt anything but friendly.

So this would be a leap for Michael but he figured he waited long enough. And if things didn’t go well… well he didn’t want to think about that.

Today was the perfect day to confess. Mostly because he wouldn’t have anyone in his ear, or yellin’ halfway across the hall. All his brothers and sisters would be out, per his request, and his parents would also be out tonight— a carefully planned date he’d convinced them that they needed. It was almost a dream come true how empty the house was.

He had the snacks already set out on the coffee table, and the disgustingly buttered popcorn you loved so much already made the way you liked.

Last thing he was missing was the ice cream. When he bent to look in the fridge though, the white and gold box shoved to the back caught his eyes. He of course didn’t listen to you when you said to toss it. They were so pretty and someone had given them to him as a gift.

Plus, he was getting the munchies and way too curious. Just one bite wouldn’t hurt and after all, who was Michael to turn down chocolate. He decided to pick the one you probably would’ve liked most.

Dark chocolate with raspberry crème filling. He unwrapped it slowly and brought it to his lips. The first bite he took was, honestly, a little underwhelming. It tasted bitter, like he’d shoved an entire spoon of cocoa powder in his mouth. But for some reason, he kept eating, like it would get better.

The second bite was near addictive. The strong cocoa taste dissipated into something dark, smooth and rich. And when the sharp, vibrant, raspberry flavor mixed in. It was over. He finished the whole thing in seconds. Even went so far as to have another. And another.

He didn’t even care for dark chocolate normally but something about the thing had him licking at his fingers for every last bit of it.

He was about four in and about to have another when the sound of the door opening met his ears and you padded into the kitchen, letting yourself in like you often did.

Your eyes landed on Michael, hunched over the counter, the dim lights of the kitchen shadowing him.

“I swear I told you not to eat those.” you eyed him warily. The way his lips were wrapped firmly around his pointer. He let it go with a pop, like a kid who’d been caught.

“They’re actually really good.”

“Michael my point was you don’t know what’s in that. It could be poisonous or something.” you were exasperated, pinching your nose bridge. Sometimes he reminded you of a bad ass little kid.

“Well, I’ve been eatin’ it and I’m fine. Plus they were wrapped up.” he shrugged and placed the lid back on the box before shoving it back in the fridge.

“How many have you eaten?”

“I don’t know like— three, four ish.”

“Michael!” you threw your hands up.

He moved around the counter and in your direction, hands pressing into your shoulders. “Relax, I’m fine. And if I’m not later, then I got you here with me.”

Despite his words you couldn’t help the knot of worry building in your stomach. Truthfully you wanted to call him a damn fool but you didn’t. Instead you nodded and let him lead you over to the tv, already paused on The Sound of Music. Something you both almost never tired of watching.

You settled on the couch, already falling into your usual routine, passing around snacks, fighting over blankets before you both just decided to share it. You watched Michael and giggled as he playfully sung the melody to My Favorite Things with Julia Andrews. He could never help himself and it was something you always looked forward to.

You didn’t notice anything off with Michael until a few moments later.

He wouldn’t stop adjusting. Every two seconds you’d see from the corner of your eye, he'd raise up and shift, the couch cushions repositioning under his weight.

“You okay?” you turned your head that was pressed into his shoulder, peering up at him. You’d ended up in your normal position after the snacks were gone, tucked into his side with his arm around you.

“Yeah m’good,” he cleared his throat. “It’s just a little warm.” he sounded a little winded. You sat up to press a hand to his forehead feeling for a fever of some type. He did feel warm.

“Maybe take the blanket off of you?” you suggested. He kicked the blanket off but grabbed one of the nearby pillows, sitting it firmly in his lap and holding it. You took the blanket off too even though the house was a little chilly, you tended to run colder.

You thought that would fix it but as the minutes ticked by he just got more antsy and a whole lot warmer. You could feel him practically radiating heat onto your side.

“I think I need to lie down.” he spoke suddenly, voice hoarse.

“Alright, go ahead.” you sat upright clearing space for him. You’d assumed he would lay his head on your lap, like he sometimes did when you watched movies together. But the way he was looking at you, he looked hesitant.

Michael didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him.

It’d started about fifteen minutes into the movie. But it was easy enough to ignore. It felt no more than a stomach ache.

But twenty five more minutes and that dull feeling persisted and grew into a deep and relentless feeling. And then he started to get hard in his sweats. He didn’t even know what the hell to do about it. And you suggesting to remove the blanket had him panicking.

He started noticing more things too. After a certain point he’d locked completely out of the movie, his full attention falling on you. The feeling of your body pressed into his was maddening. More so than usual. Just the feeling of your skin touching his had his whole body on fire.

He felt every breath you took like it was breathed directly into his lungs, his senses honed into whatever reactions you had. And when you took the blanket off, he’d honed in on your newly exposed skin. The way your shorts sat high on your hips, the invitingly plush skin of your thighs. It was all he could think about.

And you seemed none the wiser.

Because if you knew the thoughts circulating in his head, you probably wouldn’t let him near you, let alone lay on you.

You looked so soft. And it wasn’t like it was the first time. And you were offering yourself up. Or that’s what it felt like. Michael knew his body was gonna make the decision before his rational brain could.

He stretched out onto the couch, resting his head on your legs, making an attempt to get comfortable. He thought he was doing a good job at pretending everything was okay.

He was tracing small shapes and patterns on your legs, the movie becoming his personal background noise. His mind drifted to a much dirtier place. A place where he ran his hands up your thighs. Or dipped his hand between your legs. All the way up to your—

He felt your fingers caress up his back and into his hair and it sent a jolt through him. You gently rubbed his scalp through his curls, and he melted into your touch instantly, turning his face deeper into the crease of your thighs, inhaling softly.

“Does that feel good?” your voice was a quiet whisper.

Michael just nodded because he was one slip up from whimpering like a dog into your leg. The same ones that were squeezing together slightly the farther he pressed his face in. This wasn’t a part of your usual routine.

Something about this was nearly euphoric for Michael. Having your skin on his, his face pressed between your legs and your hand in his hair. Your smell was surrounding him and he was in heaven. So much so that he couldn’t control the way his hips started to inconspicuously ground into the couch.

You were starting to get a little worried. You weren’t completely oblivious. It was impossible to not notice his strange behavior. Not to notice the way his nose burrowed into you. His deep inhales. He was so close and you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together against the tension building.

You felt like a pervert for where your head was at. He was just trying to get comfort and here you were thinking less than pure thoughts. Thoughts of his head between your legs in an entirely different way.

Above all else though, you were worried. He was growing hotter by the second.

“Michael?” the sound that left him was completely wrecked. A low whine piercing the air.

“What’s going on with you? You’re so hot.” your voice held a mix of worry and confusion but all he’d heard was ‘you’re so hot’.

You dipped your hand into the back of his t shirt to feel the rest of his skin. He nearly melted at the feeling of your palm on his back. It felt so good to have your hands on him.

“Hn— please—“ he was clutching at the fabric of your shirt, nestling deeper between your thighs which he’d managed to part slightly. He was practically nuzzling his nose right into the apex of your thighs, breathing you in.

“Michael!” your voice seemed to knock him out of it and he shot up quickly kneeling against the couch and panting. He looked like he did after a performance, eyes dilated, hair a mess, and damp with sweat. His breath was coming out in uneven spurts through his nose, eyes flitting around anxiously, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth nervously.

He couldn’t even look at you. He was so fucking hard, it almost hurt and somthing about you was making his control slip faster and faster. He needed you gone before he started grinding up against you like a needy puppy. Or something else he might not regret.

“I— I’m just not feeling too well. I think we need to call it a night.” he tried to keep his voice measured, inching away from you slightly. It almost hurt to do so.

“Hey, I’m not leaving. Especially not if you’re sick. C’mere.” you don’t wait for him to come to you. You just grabbed him and started inspecting his body curiously.

You didn’t see anything visibly worrying and a thought suddenly crossed your mind, “Wait right here.” you got up off the couch and headed for the kitchen and Michael fought the whine crawling up his throat at the loss of contact.

You took the box of roses out the fridge, before removing the lid. You looked around in the box when you noticed another small card tucked away, revealed by the roses Michael had eaten.

You fished it out, eyes scanning over the words.

Aphrodisiac Chocolate. Intended for the one you love. No more than one per person. And a whole list of other side effects.

“What? What’s it say?” Michael asked frantically, already coming into the kitchen fighting the feeling forming in his gut.

“It says uhm…” you trailed off still inspecting the card as if you could will the words to rearrange themselves into something you could comprehend.

He plucked the card from your hands, eyes going wider as they dragged across the words.

“Oh god and I had four.” he sounded absolutely freaked out.

You sighed out exasperated and a little fed up, crossing your arms over your chest. “This is why I told you to listen to me. You can’t just go around eating things that random fan girls give you. It’s not safe and you’re way too trusting. I mean I swear it’s like you don’t even—“

Michael wasn’t even listening to a word of your rambling. It was like his brain kicked completely off and stalled. The only thing he could focus on was the curve of your mouth forming around the words. The plushness of your lips and the high shine gloss coating them, drawing him in.

You snapped in front of his face. “Michael, are you listening?”

He didn’t answer. He barely even heard you over the sound of his pulse thundering in his ears.

He didn’t even have a moment to stop himself before he grabbed at you, shoving you up against the fridge door, crowding your space. He pressed his nose into your neck, taking a deep inhale of your perfume, his hands gripping at your hips.

You couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore. Not when it was pressed against your thigh where he was grinding his hips.

“Please, I need you to help me…it hurts and— my body is so hot.” he was panting in your ear voice strained and barely audible.

Your eyes widened, a mixture of arousal and surprise causing your breath to catch. He was trembling in your arms, barely holding himself up. Clearly the thing had him acting erratic. But he was your best friend. You couldn’t leave him like this.

You swallowed nervously before speaking. “What— what do you need me to do?”

“M’ burning up. Please touch me. Need t’ feel you.” he pleaded, pressing open mouthed kisses over the column of your throat and pressing his face in. The contact had heat pooling between your thighs, even more so when his hand dipped underneath the back of your shirt, dragging over your ribcage.

“Michael— you don’t even know what you’re asking.” you swallowed hard. “You’d only regret it in the end.”

Michael pulled his head from your neck, his lust filled eyes meeting yours and flitting between them. He brought a large palm to cradle the side of your cheek, his thumb smoothing over the spot. The desire welling in his gut still persisted. But he needed you to know.

“I promise you I wouldn’t. I don’t want anyone else but you… but if you don’t want that then I need you to leave. Now.” he inched back away from you, giving you enough room to move away and leave if you wanted.

But you didn’t move.

You stayed firmly planted where he had you in his arms. He didn’t waste another moment, surging forward to claim your lips. It was like he melted into you, pulling you in as if to tuck you into a little corner of his body. His head was still fuzzy but one thing was incredibly clear to him.

He needed to get you upstairs and in his bed now before he tore all your clothes off right in the kitchen.

He detached his lips from yours with great effort, backing up to look into your eyes again. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, yes I’m sure. And very willing please just—“ you let out a surprised yelp when he dipped forward suddenly, picking you up and carrying you over his shoulder. Now Michael wasn’t the biggest man in the world, but his quiet strength shocked you sometimes. He was almost sprinting up the stairs, until he reached his door which he shut before placing you on the bed.

He was on you again. His kiss this time was less frantic, more gentle and soft but still deep and hungry. And the more he kissed you, the more you wanted from him.

You licked at his bottom lip, taking it into your mouth before opening back up. He makes a pleasured sound low in his throat and you start feeling heat coil in your gut.

You angle your body before wrapping your leg around his hip and dragging him down onto you. He immediately starts grinding his hips against yours in slow circles, seeking pleasure, and you moan into his mouth.

You can feel him, hard and insistent rubbing against your cunt through your shorts. And the more you touched him, the warmer your body got. The more arousal started to pool between your legs before it became uncomfortable.

“Michael— please take these off. You’re teasing.” he pulled up, looking down at you sprawled out on his bed. It was like something from a dream.

“Okay, okay y’ want me to take these off honey?” he hummed already reaching for the waistband to your shorts. He slipped them down your legs before tossing them away somewhere.

The sight that met him had his lust clouded brain frazzled. The entire crotch of your panties was soaked through, making the outline of your pussy practically visible through the fabric. And if he looked closely enough, he could see the little twitch of your clit peeking through.

“Fuck—“ he could feel the burn worsening. The need to bury himself inside you and fuck you taking over his thoughts like a parasite. But a fixation had him halting a moment, bringing his thumb to draw circles over your clit through the fabric. And he was so pleased when you writhed on the bed, gripping at his wrist, your legs falling shut slightly.

He got up off the bed and quickly shoved his pants off, his boxers following.

He was hard and long but not overly thick, flushed a deep red color from increased blood flow and arousal.

You and Michael were close, but you’d never been this exposed to each other before. You’d both expected to feel self conscious, but were surprised at the absence of shyness or discomfort.

There was really only one thing going through Michael’s head. He gave himself a few experimental strokes and hissed at the sensitivity, small moans slipping past his lips.

Then he brought himself down, kneeling between your legs, before running his tip over the fabric of your panties. He nearly comes from the feeling of your slick soaked panties alone. You’re both moaning every time he nudges against your clit, keeping himself pressed firmly between your legs while he thrusts against you.

“Hah— I — hmm ‘m jus’ gonna do this kay? Not gonna put it in.” but god he wanted to. He was doing this for your benefit. You’d only offered to help him get off. That didn’t require penetrative sex. And maybe it would be enough. Despite the fact that his brain was screaming at him that it wouldn’t. Screaming at him to just slip your panties off and fuck you properly.

“Ohmygod— Mike please!” your cries were desperate as you rut your hips up against his, trying to catch that perfect angle that made your toes curl and your legs tense. It was almost torturous what he was doing.

“Just a little bit more pretty girl okay?” he whined out, mouth coming over yours. He tried to kiss you but just ended up pressing your mouths together while you both panted.

The sounds of frantic breaths, skin meeting and the bedframe creaking were all that could be heard while you both slide against each other, chasing release.

Your shirt was still on and he shucked it up over your breast with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick. As soon as your tits are presented to him, he’s palming them, surging forward to suck a nipple into his mouth.

“Nnn shit— please don’t stop, baby.” your hands were holding the back of his neck, fingers threading into his curls. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against you when he pressed closer.

“Fuck— you’re so sweet like this y’know. Lettin’ me rub up against you. My sweet girl, always helpin’ me out.” he tilted his head up, dark brown eyes peering at you from your chest and you keened at the praise. He felt the spasms from your cunt reacting— wanting so bad to be filled up by him.

“Michael please, need more.” your eyes were wide and glassy looking down at him, begging for more contact, more friction.

“M’sorry mama I don’t wan’ you t’ hate me but… I have an idea.” he pulled back looking down at the mess he’d made on your panties. His white milky precum mixing in with your slick.

He gingerly peels the middle of your panties up, strings of your arousal snapping against the fabric, and slides his dick under the fabric. The feeling of your warm wet heat sliding against his velvety shaft without the barrier was euphoric. Just skin against skin. And now, every time he slid forward his tip would catch right on your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips.

“Oh this is so much better.” his voice cracked slightly on the words, his sharp thrusts drawing out gasps from your lips. He was grinding his dick along your messy and soaked folds, hips moving in that smooth and controlled way only he could.

The slick friction has Michael’s abs tightening and he cums before he can even think about it. Or stop it. He cums a lot, ropes coating over your already dripping sex and naval.

And even though he just came, that feeling still doesn’t go away. If anything it just made him feel worse.

“Mmmngh— ‘m sorry pretty. Can we do it one more time? Jus’ one more time okay?” he begged and begged, voice desperate, already moving to press against you again.

He was much more enthusiastic this time, chasing after his release with fervor, his cum still between your pelvises making him lose momentum and slip over your pussy. You were a mess at this point, hands gripping anywhere they could and moaning out. You knew this wasn’t going to be enough. For either of you.

“Mikey, need you inside please.” he stalled, coming to a complete halt. He knew he wasn’t gonna need much convincing, but still—

“Are y’sure?” he looked manic but needed to make certain it was something you actually wanted.

“Yes, yes please.”

He didn’t need to be told again. He sat up before roughly flipping you over onto your stomach, pulling you to the edge of the bed. His hands gripped at your hips, lifting them up while a hand smoothed down over your back to press you down, chest flush with the mattress.

He brought his dick to your entrance and pressed inside without preamble. He’d had enough teasing and was met with very little resistance, you being worked up and wet enough.

At the first feel of him inside you, you both let out a simultaneous moan. He was in pure ecstasy. And the angle had him hitting a spot deep inside you every time he pressed his hips to yours. He didn’t know if it was the drugs or just you but he felt like he’d finally gotten some relief. So he chased after that feeling.

It was messy and heated, slick sounds from your combined wetness ringing in his ears and spurring him on. Little groans of your name and whimpers were leaving his lips and every time your pussy spasmed and drew him in was like heaven had fell down and relocated between your legs.

He hardly knew what to do with himself. He just watched that little ring coating around your entrance where he was sliding in and out of you.

“Feel good mama, y’like when I’m deep inside you like this? C’mon, tell me how it feels angel.”

“Ss’so good.” you couldn’t frame together a full sentence, drool spilling from the corner of your lip while he fucked you.

Michael was relentless, hips smacking roughly against yours. At some point you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and collapsed down onto the mattress. And instead of hauling you up, he just followed you down, plastering himself firmly to your back.

“Nu uh please don’t run mama, mm not done yet. Still need this pussy. Gotta take it.” he huffed out into your ear and tightened his hold on you, dragging you into his thrusts. You were thankful when he dipped his hand around your body, reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. Even if he was fucked out of his mind, he wouldn’t forget your pleasure.

You were wailing out, repeated cries of his name and please all stringing together in an indistinguishable mess.

“Pussy so sweet to me, gonna come for me? Yeah she is— you’re so close aren’t you?” he was babbling so much, all of it bringing you closer and closer to the edge until you came with a barely audible cry.

His hips still didn’t stop, he kept the momentum going, fucking you through your orgasm, and when you finally were ready to come back down he still hadn’t stopped. You were feeling the beginnings of overstimulation setting in, your limbs shaking slightly.

Michael finally pulled off you and flipped you back over. He looked apologetic and in a daze as he wrapped your thighs up in his hands, spreading you open and shoving a leg over his shoulder.

You had a feeling of what he was gonna say next. He kissed your ankle sweetly before speaking. “Jus’ one more time okay sweet girl, I promise jus’ one more. Y’can do that right? Doin’ so good for me.”

One more time actually turned into about five more times, Michael bending you into any position his mind could conjure up in his sex induced haze. You’d lost track of just about everything, but around your last time, when things had finally started to tame, it felt different.

It wasn’t frantic and chasing like it had been. He went slow and pressed deep. It was reverent and loving and had you clawing your nails against the slope of his back. He didn’t say much but the message was there in the way he caressed you after, pressing gentle kisses all over you.

The last thing you remember is him whispering something in your ear before your body took the rest that it needed.

You woke the next morning to a harsh sound directly in your ear. Your body felt like it’d been hit by a truck but you managed to turn to be met with a soundly sleeping Michael, mouth open and arm draped over your hip. He was snoring, you realized with a smile. At least he was actually sleeping for once.

You stretched your limbs out as best you could, head pressed into the pillow. You needed to get up, your brain already running scenarios in your head for what you’d do when he got up. A cold fear crashed into you when you thought of what he’d say.

If he’d regret this whole thing. Because you didn’t. It was unexpected, sure but you didn’t regret it. You knew the feelings you had for Michael before this whole thing even happened. Ones you tried to push down because you thought it was the right thing to do.

You decided that you wanted to be up first and at least have clothes on or got in the shower for this conversation. You pried your limbs from under his body, attempting to not wake him up.

You went to pick your clothes up off the floor when you caught sight of your reflection in a mirror near the wall.

“Holy fuck.” you furrowed your brows moving closer. All marred across your skin were deep marks, ranging in color and size. You’d be hard pressed to find a spot untouched.

Michael stirred on the bed lifting up and wiping sleep from his eye. When he saw you across the room he got a deeply embarrassed look on his face. How could he look so innocent after what happened last night?

“I uh— I’m sorry about that. I may have gotten a little carried away.”

You turned to inspect your back and ass, tilting your head at him. “A little carried away? It looks like I got mauled.” you pointed to a bruise on your thigh glaring at him playfully. Truthfully, you weren’t all that upset at all. You enjoyed last night.

“Sorry I was just havin’ too much fun. It was jus’ the drugs in my system.” he’d said it with a shrug like it was no big deal. Your brows drew down immediately.

“So… all of last night, that was just the drugs?” you held your breath, waiting for an answer, eyes staring into his expectantly. You were already planning your emotionally detached response and escape but he seemed to realize how that sounded quickly.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Oh goodness no no. I didn’t mean— of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you.” he reassured and you let out the breath you’d been holding.

“I promise you it didn’t mean nothin’ to me.” he said, eyes filled with something you couldn’t put a name to yet. But you believed him and his words eased your mind.

“Okay. These bruises are still crazy though. How am I supposed to hide this Michael?”

“A parka maybe?”

He could not be serious.

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