Mick's POV
The noise was unbearable.
Another fucking industry party. Packed with Hollywood elites, rockstars, and suits who pretended to care about the "next big thing." Mick Mars stood in the farthest corner of the room, back pressed against the wall, nursing a drink that had long since gone warm. He wasn't here to socialize. He was here because the label insisted, and honestly? He was ready to vanish.
"Just show your face, Mick," they said. "Smile a little."
Mick scoffed, swirling the ice in his glass. Smile? Yeah, right. He was barely holding it together as it was. These kinds of crowds weren't his thing. Too many people. Too much noise.
But then...
A soft laugh floated across the room.
Mick's eyes flickered toward the sound, and that's when he saw him.
Michael Jackson.
Dressed in a sleek suit, curls perfectly framing his face, and that shy, almost ethereal smile lighting up the space around him. He was surrounded by people, but Mick could tell — Michael wasn't comfortable.
"Poor kid," Mick muttered, taking another sip.
But damn... he couldn't stop looking.
Michael's POV
The room was suffocating.
Michael Jackson was used to crowds, but this? This was different. It wasn't screaming fans or excited energy. It was industry people, all wanting something from him.
"Michael, over here!"
"Michael, tell us about Thriller!"
"Michael, you've got to meet so-and-so..."
Michael smiled politely, but his heart wasn't in it. He just wanted... out.
But then...
He saw him.
Standing in the corner, barely noticeable if you weren't paying attention.
Dark curls. Leather jacket. Cold eyes, but something... softer underneath.
Michael's heart skipped a beat.
Who is that?
Mick's POV
He looked away.
Nope. Don't get involved.
But then...
"Hi."
Mick froze. Shit.
That soft voice? He didn't need to look to know who it was.
"I'm Michael."
Mick's head turned slowly, eyes meeting big brown ones filled with curiosity and... warmth.
"Uh... Mick." His voice was rougher than he intended.
Silence.
Michael smiled, tilting his head. "You don't like crowds either, huh?"
Mick blinked. How the fuck did he know?
"Not my thing," Mick mumbled, eyes flickering to the floor.
Michael giggled softly. "Me neither."
And that? That was the moment Mick was fucked.
Mick's POV
They'd been talking for hours.
Mick wasn't sure how it happened, but one minute he was trying to sneak out of the party, and the next?
Michael Jackson was sitting beside him in some quiet corner, talking about music, life, and everything in between.
Michael was... easy to talk to. Too easy.
Mick had never met anyone who didn't expect him to be the wild rockstar. Michael didn't care about any of that. He was just... listening.
"So... you don't like these kinds of things either?" Mick asked, watching Michael's face.
Michael smiled softly, eyes lowering. "I feel... trapped sometimes. Like no one really sees me."
"I see you."
Fuck. Mick didn't mean to say that out loud.
Michael's eyes shot up, wide and surprised. "You do?"
Mick cleared his throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "Yeah... I do."
Michael's lips curled into the softest smile Mick had ever seen. "I think I see you too, Mick."
Michael's POV
Weeks had passed since that night.
Michael didn't expect to hear from Mick again... but he did.
Late-night phone calls. Quiet dinners away from the public eye.
Mick wasn't like anyone Michael had ever met. He was quiet, reserved, but underneath that tough exterior?
Mick was gentle. Protective. Safe.
And Michael?
He was falling. Hard.
"You okay?" Mick's voice was low, filled with concern.
Michael nodded, leaning his head on Mick's shoulder. "I am now."
Mick's arm wrapped around him, holding him close. "Good."
Mick's POV
Michael was asleep.
They were on the couch, some old movie playing in the background, but Mick wasn't watching.
He was watching Michael.
The soft rise and fall of his chest. The way his lips parted slightly. The way he fit perfectly against Mick's side.
Mick's heart clenched.
"Shit."
This wasn't supposed to happen.
He wasn't supposed to fall.
But as he brushed a curl out of Michael's face, Mick knew...
It was too late.
"I love you, Mike..." he whispered, barely audible.
Michael stirred, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "I love you too, Mick..."
Mick's breath caught. "You heard that?"
Michael's eyes fluttered open, filled with warmth.
"I've been waiting for you to say it."
Mick's POV
Mick had never been more nervous in his life.
They were in the studio, working late. Michael was humming some melody, completely lost in the music.
Mick couldn't take his eyes off him.
"Mick?" Michael turned, eyes full of love.
Now or never.
Mick reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.
"Mike..." His voice was barely above a whisper.
Michael's eyes widened. "Mick...?"
"I'm not good at this." Mick swallowed hard. "But I know I can't do this life without you."
Michael's hand covered his mouth, tears brimming.
"Will you marry me?"
Michael was crying before Mick even finished.
"Yes... oh my god, yes!"
Mick slipped the ring on Michael's finger, and before he knew it, Michael was in his arms, kissing him like his life depended on it.
"You're stuck with me now, Mike."
"Good." Michael smiled through his tears. "That's exactly where I want to be."
YOU ARE READING
Bandom One-shots book 3
FanficI take requests! Fluff, Smut and Angst Lots of bands from the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. I also take requests for SOME artists from the 2000s but I prefer anything before that :)
