Work Text:
You really loved your job. Working as a makeup artist was something you dreamed of for as long as you could remember, being able to help others achieve their best look warmed your heart.
But today, you weren't so sure you liked your job.
"Stand still, please." You urged and Michael tried to contain another giggle. He stood as stiff as he could, but you knew he'd end up moving again.
Yes, the source of your annoyance was the global superstar, Michael Jackson.
"Sorry." He apologized softly as you gently tapped his skin to retouch his makeup for his mini movie. "It tickles."
"Does it?" Your question was rather rhetorical. "Others told me you can stay still when getting your makeup done."
You noticed a sudden shyness in his eyes, the way he awkwardly laughed and looked to the side, but tried to stay in place.
"I guess you make me nervous."
You stopped for a moment, blinking at his words.
You didn't know he was a flirt.
"I'm sorry?" You tried, unsure of how to answer. Michael seemed to wince at the way you spoke and pulled away from him, putting the makeup products back in place.
"No, I– I guess I overstepped." He scratched his neck, and you turned to him once again, curious. "I just mean–"
"Michael! We have to continue filming now!"
The director's voice cut through the place and Michael clicked his tongue. He looked at you one last time, opening his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He nodded to you, as if acknowledging your work, and walked back to his position.
What was that all about?
•••
The rest of the filming went smoothly. More or less.
Michael did an amazing job, as he usually does, but there were some issues here and there. Occasionally, he'd get distracted, usually when he made eye contact with you, and that would confuse you even more.
You checked your clothes and even used a pocket mirror to look at your face. Did you look strange in any way? Why was he getting distracted every time he'd land his eyes on you?
A tiny voice, a little indulgent, would whisper about the possibility of him being interested in you, but you quickly shut it down. You believed yourself to be pretty good looking, but you weren't talking about just anyone, this was Michael Jackson.
Once filming ended for the day, Michael thanked everyone in his staff, sweet as he was. Naturally, he also came to you with a big smile on his face.
"Thank you for your hard work today." He said, and you returned the smile.
"No, thank you for the opportunity." You insisted. "It's a big honor to be able to work for you, Mr. Jackson."
"Oh, please, call me Michael."
You stopped for a moment, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling too much.
That tiny voice in the back of your head sure was getting louder.
"Well, uhm... Michael." Your voice came out weaker than you intended, the way he stared at you didn't help. "Should we get your makeup removed now, or...?"
"Oh. Yeah, sure." He nodded, a little hesitant himself as you both entered his dressing room so you could do your job properly. "I'm at your services."
You laughed, looking for the makeup remover. You walked up to him, looking down at his face as he closed his eyes.
Professionalism had never required this much concentration before. Today had been so strange, and it was making you more flustered by the second, but a job was a job... And you needed to finish this one with perfection.
You gently took his makeup off, doing your best to not irritate his skin in any way. He held his breath for a few seconds every time your hands got close to his mouth, and you tried your best to not think too much about it.
"How did you learn how to do this?" He asked quietly, trying not to bother you as you worked. "Makeup, I mean."
"Oh, you know." You shrugged. "I studied for it. I started alone as an amateur and slowly got better in beauty school." You hesitated, wondering if you should try speaking your mind. "But you barely need any help. You're beautiful as is."
His eyes shot open, and you became hyper aware of your proximity to his face.
You dummy.
"A-anyway," you finished removing his makeup, throwing the cotton away. "Thank you for the opportunity, Michael."
As you tried to finish packing your things to leave, Michael stood up, walking close to you. You flinched as you noticed his presence.
"Tomorrow," he started, a bit hesitant. "I was thinking... When we have a break, could we maybe get coffee? Together?"
Your eyes widened slightly.
"Coffee?"
"Or tea! It doesn't need to be either, just–" he stumbled over his words, playing with his fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to understand. "I would like to talk to you more. Just us."
You stopped for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips.
He was nervous.
You weren't imagining things.
"...that would be great." Despite your happiness, your voice failed you. You beat yourself up for not sounding as smooth as you wanted, but Michael didn't seem to mind.
"Alright." He nodded. "Then I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes, I'll be here."
Silence settled between you two afterward, neither of you quite knowing how to act. So, Michael smiled at you one last time and left to talk to other staff members.
You tried to hide your grin behind your hand.
•••
On the next day, Michael had been one of the first people to arrive on set, his eyes scanning the room for you. It was cute how his eyes would crinkle alongside his smile the moment you two made eye contact.
Your work was especially hard that day. Michael managed to stay quiet as you applied his makeup, but he decided to stare at you throughout the whole process.
It made you nervous to the point you almost let your makeup products fall twice.
"Done." You finished applying the setting powder, putting it aside.
Michael looked in the mirror, checking your job, and you couldn't help but fidget with your fingers.
"It's amazing." His eyes lingered on you, and you let out a small breath. "But I wasn't expecting anything less."
"Well, I do have a really good base." The words left your mouth before you could think, and you instantly regretted it.
But Michael didn't seem to mind, a smirk making his way to his face.
You both heard the director warning the filming was about to start, and so you expeted Michael to leave.
But instead, he walked up to you, and his hand touched yours.
"I'll see you later, right?" Your heart did a small flip but you nodded. Your attention dropped to his hands, suddenly interested in its shape and size. Michael stroked the back of your hand, his expression warm. "Great. I can't wait."
And he was gone, walking up to the director to talk about something related to his mini movie.
The filming wasn't going as fast as you hoped it would, and you were only truly necessary during touch ups. Michael would jokingly get closer than needed, playing and testing the waters to see how much he could push.
And then your break came, and Michael was immediately at your side with two cups of coffee.
"I know somewhere quiet." He told you, carefully guiding you to where he wanted, a hand on your back as he gave you your coffee.
Little did you know, the 'somewhere quiet' in question was his dressing room.
It wasn't like you never went here. You did, obviously, but for professional reasons. Like this morning when you were doing his makeup, for example.
There was nothing professional about this moment though.
Michael asked you to have a seat at the small sofa in the room, and you accepted the offer. He did the same, sitting right beside you and setting his cup aside.
His shoulders relaxed almost instantly.
"Are you alright?" You questioned, and he turned to you, a little surprised.
"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm just... Tired."
"Well, if... If it's too much for you I can leave so you can-"
"No, that's-" he held onto your arm when you tried to get up, his eyes soft. "I want you here. Please."
You sat down slowly, a bit in shock with his words. But you looked to the side, a little embarrassed by his actions.
"I bet you do this to all your makeup artists." You joked, but you admit there was a hint of worry in your words.
"No, trust me." He reassured you, slowly letting your arm go. Your hand rubbed the place he touched you, still feeling its warmth. His grin turned mischievous for a moment. "Usually they don't make me this nervous."
You rolled your eyes at him.
It felt strange to be all alone with him, but he was... Surprisingly easy to talk to.
"I've been waiting to be alone with you all day, you know?" Michael confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.
Your fingers tightened around your cup.
"Why?"
Michael rubbed his neck, biting his lip in the process. He was a deer caught in headlights, and you felt some sort of satisfaction in watching him get cornered for a change.
He sighed.
"I guess... You're my type?"
You frowned.
"Your type?"
"You're sweet, gentle." He continued. "There's something charming about you. I can't put my finger on it." Michael looked at you, tilting his head as he got closer to you. "You're just interesting."
You could feel your pulse in your fingertips, and you hid your face behind your cup, causing Michael to worry, thinking you were upset or uncomfortable by his words, but you quickly explained yourself:
"It's just unfair."
Michael lifted an eyebrow. "What is?"
"You keep saying these things and looking at me like that. It's not fair."
You heard Michael's soft giggles before his hand rested on your back, stroking you with care.
Michael called your name, his tone light and sweet. So, you gathered up courage to turn your face to him.
He was so close.
Michael cleared his throat, he looked at your lips for a brief moment. You felt goosebumps at the implication.
But it wasn't like you were against it.
His hand touched your cheek with care, as if scared you wouldn't like it.
"Can I kiss you?" He looked so vulnerable, even a little scared. Your breath hitched for a moment.
You nodded.
Michael smiled, leaning close into your space. His lips barely touching yours.
But he didn't kiss you.
There was a loud knock on the door.
"Michael!" A female voice was heard, one of the stylists, if you remembered correctly. "Are you in there?"
He sighed against your skin, still centimeters away from you. You closed your mouth, disappointed.
"Yes! I'm uh..." He looked at you, his fingers stroking your face. "Kinda busy at the moment."
"We want to try a different look before the break ends!" Michael clicked his tongue and you put your hand on your mouth, trying to contain a fit of laughter by how annoyed he seemed to be.
"Yeah, okay... I'll be there in a few."
After the stylist left, there wasn't much to do. Michael had to go, and you too, before someone noticed you were both together.
"I'll... I'll be going now. Before they notice I'm missing too."
"You're probably right." He ran his fingers through his curly hair, still annoyed. "Sorry about... That."
You watched him for a moment.
It didn't feel right to end things this way.
You inhaled deeply, leaning into his space and landing a soft kiss to his cheek.
You stood up abruptly, running up to the door and opening it in a single movement.
"I'll see you back on set, Michael."
And you were gone.
Michael held his cheek in shock, smiling foolishly as he stared at the door.
A soft laugh escaped him.
"That girl..." He hid his face in his hands. "I was supposed to be the smooth one..."