The Way She Wants It (Michael Jackson FanFiction)

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"You've been on my mind," I sing, walking into the kitchen, throwing my car keys, "You're sweet like a fine wine," I continue to sing mindlessly, spinning to dance up the stairs dramatically, "And all I can say is that you might. Just. Be. My perfect glass." I sing, changing my tone to whine as I run my hands down my curves, "I need you," I sing loudly, pressing my back into a wall at the top of the stairs, "And you need me," I roll on the wall, so that my hands are against it, and I throw my mop of curly hair back, "So let's just sip in ecstasy." I belt out before walking into my room, "Please make love to me, and I'll grant your every need." I sing, turning right and throwing my gym bag in the closet that I brought to the studio with me. 

I slump my pants off, continuing to sing as I dance around in my thong before pulling my baggy, grey sweatpants up my legs before taking off my halter top and putting on a cropped one with a zip up sweatshirt. 

"I love you, baby," I sing, "You love me too. You don't want to say it but I know you do!" I belt out, turning to wal- "Jesus Christ!" I gasp, holding my chest as I stumble backwards a bit. 

"That was amazing," Michael smiles, leaning against the door frame to my walk in closet, "Don't let me stop you. Keep going." he grins brightly, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

"Fuck Michael," I sigh, my heart still racing, "You scared the shit out of me." I breathe deeply, walking towards him and my face starts to heat, "Why didn't you stop me?" 

"Is that song about me?" he smiles, pulling me into him by the small of my back when I get close enough for him to do so. 

"Answer my question first," I grin, kissing the corner of his mouth as he traces circles on my lower back.

"I didn't stop you, because I didn't want to interrupt the little performance you were giving me." 

"I did even know you were there."  I shake my head, suppressing a smile. 

"That's what made the performance so phenomenal," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss my lips longingly. 

"Why are you here?" I ask, looking up into his big brown eyes. 

"Answer my question first," he grins, mocking me, as I roll my eyes. 

"Yes, the song is about you," I drawl, throwing my head back and he leans down to kiss my neck, "Michael." I moan involuntarily as he sucks on my sweet spot. 

He gets it every time. 

"Hmm," he hums into my neck, kissing across my collarbones. 

"Michael, why are you here," I giggle as he continues to shower me with kisses. 

"I can't just come over?" he asks, kissing the top of my cleavage. 

"Of course you can," I sigh, biting my lip, "But I was just assuming that you came over for something specific, or to tell me something." 

"Maybe," he sighs, standing up straight, looking down at me with a touch of sadness. 

"What?" I ask, furrowing my brows, "What did you come to tell me?" I ask, stepping back from him, knowing that it's not going to be good. 

"Bee," he sighs, taking my hand in his before pulling me back into him, "I'm going on tour." he sighs, looking into my eyes. I shift my eyes, stepping away from him before running my hands over my hair. 

"When are you leaving?" I ask, turning my back to him. 

"A year," he says, "I leave in a year, a couple of months after the album is released."

Michael stands in the doorway as I slowly start to pace, folding my arms. 

"I can't come with you," I say, scrunching my nose, continuing to pace. 

"I wouldn't expect you to," he nods, watching me carefully. 

"I can't put my career on hold to go on tour with you," I mumble. 

"I'm not asking you to," he nods again. 

"How long are you gone for?" I ask, looking at the ground. 

"The first leg is a bit less than a year, then I get a few months to break, and the second leg will be a year." he sighs, biting his lips, probably anticipating me blowing up. 

"Okay," I sigh, sitting on the round chair in the middle of the room, "Okay, it's fine," I assure myself, looking up to Michael who is slowly walking towards me.

"Are you upset?" he asks cautiously, standing in front of me. 

"No, Michael," I sigh, resting my head against his stomach, "I'm not upset. It's part of the job, I get it." I sigh, shaking my head, "It just sucks because I basically just got back. I thought we'd at least have a year together." 

"I'm leaving in a year."  he says, playing with my hair. 

"Yeah, but we're not going to have a year together. You have to do rehearsals and planning and all that." I mumble, looking up at him, "When do rehearsals start?" I ask softly as he strokes my cheek with his thumb. 

"As soon as possible," he sighs, "but things won't start to get busy for the next six months or so." 

"Do you have your dancers and rest of the crew cast?" I ask. He shakes his head, helping me from the seat. 

"No, but I have an idea of who I want, but we have to hold auditions for dancers especially. Musicians and the rest should be pretty standard," he says, and I nod thinking about the process.

"We'll make it work," I smile sadly, looking up into his doe-like eyes, "I love you." 

"I love you too," he smiles as I pull him into a tight hug. 

"I can fly out and see you when I have time, and we'll hang out during the break and all that stuff." I suggest, making him smile. 

"We still have another six months, Bee. It's not like I'm leaving tomorrow." he smirks, making me shake my head. 

"I know that you're going to be busier then you say you are," I wink, reaching on my tiptoes to kiss his lips softly, "I have six months until I probably won't get to see you at all because you will be asleep in a studio somewhere. That's just the way it is." I smile, thinking back to my rehearsals before the last tour. 

"You know this all too well," he grins, kissing me longingly. 

"Don't even get me started."