Love At First Fight (Michael Jackson Fanfiction)

..47..

I keep my head pressed against the cold glass as I wipe away single tears that are running down my cheeks one at a time. We've sat in silence the whole ride, and I've wanted it. Michael knows it too. 

"Babe," Michael sighs, and I ignore him. I don't want to talk about this, "Do you want to talk about this?" he asks ironically, and I close my eyes for a second. 

This is not Michael's fault. Do not take it out on him. 

"No, I don't want to talk about this," I sniffle as we pass the 'Welcome to Los Angeles' sign. 

"Is there anything that you might want to talk about?" he asks carefully. 

"Nope." 

"Is there anything I can do for you? To help?" he asks again, in the same manner. 

"Nope." I say, in the same, mumbly tone. He breathes deeply, and the rest of the ride is silent. 

When we pull into the driveway, I open the door slowly and step out, grabbing my bag from the back and shutting the doors. I walk closely behind Michael and he unlocks the door to his massive house, letting me go ahead of him. 

"Can I get you anything?" he asks as I slip the shoes off of my feet. 

"No, that's okay," I sigh, leaning in to kiss his cheek, "I just want to be alone right now." 

"Okay," he sighs, pulling me back to hug me from behind, "Just call me if you need me. I love you." he sighs, kissing the space behind my ear. I sigh, leaning into for a second, before stepping away and I feel his reluctance. 

I can feel Michael's eyes on me as I walk away, and through the halls of this massive house. As I stroll, I find myself near the library. This is a good spot to be alone.

I pick up a large book of iconic paintings from a table and take a seat in the bay window. The moonlight shines through, hitting the perfect spot on the book in my lap. 

Why would he show up tonight? It's been years, and she's almost cleared of cancer and now he shows up? He had all this time. Tonight was not the night. 

"Dad," I sigh, wiping my tears away. I miss him even though I hate him. We used to have the best times, "He's such an idiot." I mumble to myself as I stare out the window. I look down at the book and start to flip through the pages to look at the paintings. 

I don't know why I gave up art. Even though I wouldn't have made a ton of money, I should've stuck with it. I guess I could do it now, but  I just don't have the time and I'm probably no good at it anymore. 

"Fuck, what am I doing," I sigh, shutting the book before wiping my eyes again. Honestly, what am I doing. I should just go have sex with Michael or something. I shouldn't be crying over the fact that my Dad just showed up out of the blue after years of not seeing him. 

I hoist myself up out the seat, using a large fraction of the energy I have left, and I put the book back where it was and walk out of the doors. 

"Michael?" I call, walking through the hallway. 

No answer. Huh. I wonder where he is. As I get closer to the staircase to upstairs, I hear the water running. 

Bingo.

I walk up the stairs, and into the bedroom before removing all of my clothes and stepping into the washroom. I see Michael singing to himself in a low murmur as he closes his eyes, rinsing whatever he is rinsing out of his hair. He is so damn sexy. 

I slowly walk over to the glass door, as I take in this full image of my sexy man in all this steam. Damn. 

I quietly slide the door open before stepping in behind him. I wrap my arms around him from behind and he lets out a quiet sigh. I rest my cheek against his muscular back and run my hands down his defined abs. 

"Hey baby," he sighs again, placing his hands over mine, "What are you doing?" he asks, turning in my arms. 

"I thought I'd join my sexy boyfriend in the shower," I wink, making him smile and his eyes twinkle. 

"How you feeling?" he asks, leaning down to kiss the space between my eyes as he moves us to place us both under the cascading water. 

"Better," I sigh, "I told myself to suck it up and get over it." I smirk, kind of not really joking. 

"You don't have to do that," Michael sighs, "I'm here to talk if you need to," he says quietly, searching my eyes for my true emotion. 

Just tell him. Don't leave him wondering. 

"My Father cheated on my Mother, Michael," I sigh, causing his brows to knit together with sadness, "Right after she was diagnosed with cancer... the first time," I hesitate, looking down to his chest, getting distracted for a second, "I haven't him since I watched him sign divorce papers at my Mom's house several years ago. That's why I was upset," I sigh, "I hadn't seen him in so long and I was overwhelmed and conflicted." I explain. 

"Wow," Michael sighs, still staring into my eyes. All I can see is love, "I understand why you were upset, and if you still are, I completely understand," he sighs, taking a deep breath as he traces circles on my lower back, "But you know I would never cheat on you.... right?" he asks, making me furrow my brows. 

"I hope not," I smirk, and he shakes his head. 

"I mean it," he says seriously, "It's not something I ever plan on doing." 

"I know," I sigh as he pulls me tight to him, resting his large erection against my stomach.

"Is it hard for you to tell me these kind of things?" he asks, reading my tense demeanour. 

"It's hard for me tell anyone these kind of things. I don't really voice what I'm really, deeply thinking, ever." I shrug as he leans down to kiss my forehead before resting his chin on top of my head. 

"I love you." he says softly, rubbing my back. 

"I love you too, Michael."