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people always wondered why Michael stayed single for so long. there were so many women who would give themselves to him in a heartbeat, the moment he desired. but the thing is, he didn't know why either. now that's a lie, a big fucking lie. he knew why.
Y/n Y/l/n existed, that's why.
you and Michael have been unofficially dating since the summer of '80. he's always liked you, no matter how many women he was seen out with, you were the only one in his heart and mind.
unofficially would be one of several words that could describe your relationship, on-and-off all the time works just fine too, because the second you begin working on something he barely hears from you. especially if you were on tour, that's when it gets bad, a phone call may or may not come in every fifteen to sixteen days, twice a week if he's really lucky.
barely anything is sent through the mail, not a letter, not a photo, not even a post card. never even a voicemail after a missed called. as bad as it sounds, Michael was refusing to let you go, if you were going to end up with someone it was going to be him.
no matter how much it pained him to not be with you the moment he desired, you were the one for him; end of discussion.
there's been speculation surrounding your so called friendship for years, since Michael's Jackson Five days and they still continue because no one knew what went on between you two. Michael had publicly said that he loved you multiple, several times throughout the years, and so did you, but nothing was ever confirmed.
Michael avoided other women like the plague - unless he needed to be around someone else - since the thought of being with someone else was almost triggering to him. he was so in love with you, he'd rather pluck his eyes out than look at another woman he knew liked him.
he couldn't wait till you came back. the second you land, he's yours.
he's been waiting patiently for you to come back this whole year, he knew how riled up and exhausted tour always left you. he had everything prepared, champagne and cherries for celebrating you coming home, movies and blankets so you can cuddle and watch something nice and a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers.
it was perfect.
what wasn't perfect was what happened later that night. when you finally arrived at his door step, you barely made it past his living room before you were fucking him.
Michael would say it was perfect to an extent, he did also miss you sexually, but also missed your presence in his life. yeah, he was glad you wanted to have sex with him, but he wanted to settle for something more romantic that night.
the next day he woke up to an empty, cold bed. you had left without saying a word, not even leaving a note. Michael stared up at the ceiling as memories of the night before flashed through his mind, your kisses, your hands on his body, your eyes, you. he missed your perfume and the scent of your hair, yet he got nothing.
it was like he could still feel you there, but you were probably nowhere near him.
Michael went on about his day, finishing whatever his management had him scheduled to do that day but he couldn't help but be distracted by your odd absence. it left such a weird emptiness inside him not to not have you to himself, lord knows where you were but Michael prayed you'd come back to him tonight.
and come back you did.
just to fuck him again, but you stayed for longer this time.
Michael couldn't forget the way you smiled at him as he was deep inside you, filling you up again and again. your voice rang throughout his mind, the way you told him that you loved him after he made love to you had him in a trance. you went on to ride him throughout the night, until his cum was staining the sheets and the way you moaned his name was engraved into his brain.
it was a cycle.
and the cycle never ended.
you'd go on about your days, working all day then coming home to your boyfriend to fuck him. sometimes you'd go on dates and do something fun, sometimes, but nothing ever breaking the cycle per say.
you kept doing this until you began working on your next album, Michael was seeing you less and less as you gained focus on your new project and once it was released, he knew it was going to be a while until he sees you again.
this album was you biggest hit yet. every single song managed to top the charts and break several records, Michael was happy for you, he really was, yet the moment he dreaded most was coming; once again.
you were going on tour.
a-fucking-gain.
the night you were set to leave ended up being almost a copy of what happened the night you came back. Michael had everything planned out only for you to fuck him then leave him. he lay in his bed alone that night, wondering if he's doing something wrong. he has to be, that would be the only logical explanation for whatever this was.
he loved you to fucking death. and you loved him too, right?
you said it! you told him you loved him too.
there shouldn't be a reason as to why you're treating your boyfriend of five fucking years like he's just some boy toy for you to play with when you're bored. he was your boyfriend for fucks sake, or at least he was... in his mind. the term "unofficial" never clicked to him.
to him, he will always be yours. forever.
Michael chose the pain, he can handle it. he's not a little kid anymore.
he woke up the next morning once again alone and cold, his face slightly swollen from crying himself to sleep and his pillow stained with tears.
