you're always here in my dreams - m.j

every little thing you do 1996

I peer out the car window with my heavy eyes, watching passing neon storefront signs light up the darkened outskirts of the city of Los Angeles. Michael's arm drapes over the back of my seat, I lean closer into my man's warmth, inhaling the vague smell of his faded cologne after a long day of traveling. Months on the road really took a toll on my baby, but I'm just glad he can finally get the rest his body has needed. He squeezes his arm tighter around me in his sleep, his lips parting as he lets out a quiet snore. I giggle at his little sounds, analyzing him in such a peaceful state. His curls bunch up at the back of his head as his head slowly tips backwards, a few stray curls frame his face and caress his cheeks, his eyelashes gently kiss his soft caramel skin. We slowly drift closer towards the window as Gokor makes a turn, pulling into a gas station.

"How far are we, Gokor?" I whisper, careful not to wake up Michael. He makes eye contact through the mirror,

"Two more hours. You wanna get something in there or go to the restroom?" I nod, stretching my back and sitting forward in my seat. I look back affectionately at Michael; little curls tickle his cheeks while he—quite attractively—snores. I gently brush his curls out of his face to see his beautiful features. Leaning towards him, I leave gentle pecks beside his agape mouth, feeling his warm breath against my cheek as I do so. He immediately snaps his mouth closed, his eyes fluttering open.
"Where are we?" He makes out a whisper in a deeper gravelly tone.

"Two hours from home," I place a hand on his knee. "We're stopping for gas. Do you want something from inside there?" He glances out the window at the 7-11 before nodding. "What do you want?" I slip on my shoes, Michael folding his curls up in a baseball cap.

"I'll just come with you."

The bell sitting above the door gives out a ring, and to me and my anxiety, it's an alert, educating the few people in 7-11 that Michael Jackson is here. Thank God not too many people in San Fernando Valley go to 7-11 at 2 AM. I hold his hand tightly as he follows closely behind, keeping a hood over his head as well as the baseball cap. He follows me to the cashier as I hand the man a $10 bill.

"Gas on station 6, please." He smiles in response, Michael refusing to make eye contact and instead messing with the gums and candies set out for sale on the counter. I look around, checking if there is anyone that could recognize him and make a beeline to the candy aisle on the other side of the store, Michael following closely behind and casually keeping his head down, using me as coverage. I peek into the aisle, making sure nobody stands there, and once I make sure the coast is clear, we begin to carefully choose our choices of road trip snacks.

"What you lookin for?" He asks in a whisper, sweetly eyeing my facial expression.

"Some jujubees. . . What are you craving?" I smile excitedly as I spot my jujubees, bending forwards to slip the plastic bag of sweets off the hook.

"M&Ms?" He answers as I suggest the same at the exact moment he does, his pink chapped lips curving into a shy smile.

"I know you well, baby." I smile back at him and his flushed cheeks. I step back into place, something catching my eye at the end of the aisle. I glance over, noticing a younger blonde woman slowly making her way past the end cap. He sneaks a hand under my jacket and around my waist, his hand resting on my belly button, and his pulling my body closer to his own, giving him an opportunity to bury his face in my hair. He plants little pecks on the top of my ear and in my hair. The lady stands there for forever, contemplating her decision like its a life or death dilema as I start to get a little nervous that Michael and I will start to seem awkward and make us look obvious. He nuzzles his nose in my neck. Wrapping his other arm around me in a hug from behind. He begins bobbing his adorable big head to the song playing, bending his knees and swaying me with him to the beat of "I'm So Into You" by Aaliyah. The chick only glances at us once and returns a casual smile I give her as she finally walks to the end of the aisle.

"Just the little things you do that. . ." He quietly sings along and spins me around to face him before he realizes what the next words in the lyric are, chewing on his bottom lip and smiling a mischevious grin.

"You really turn me on, and you've got it going on-" I whisper, Michael joining in to finish my sentence, "I'm into you. . ." We hold in our howling laughter, holding out the note. He slips his hands out from mine and slides away from me, twisting his feet one in front of the other to reach me as I kick my foot out to hook it with his and reach out to grab his hands so we could switch sides. We successfully switch sides, dancing backwards and forwards again, hooking feet and hands and attempting to switch sides, only for Michael to accidentally back into the shelf, knocking over boxes of candies. He scrambles to pick up the candies, sloppily shoving them all back up on the shelf while I swiftly rush to his aid, basically choking on my laughter as it comes out as a hoarse wheeze. After we balance the boxes back up, he quickly returns to his place, standing up straight and folding his hands behind his back as I chew on my bottom lip in order to keep from laughing.

"I slowly turn to look at him, mouthing the words,

"Every little thing you do. . ." He immediately covers his face with his hands, letting out muffled laughter.