I Am...Yours (MJ & Beyonce Love Story)

Growing Pains

"Yeah Michael Jackson taught me," he replied back with a smirk on his face. Michael unplugged the vacuum and walked over. "How was your shopping with Mother?" I smiled. "She was so overjoyed about having Princess being named after her." Michael smiled and hugged me. "Looks like somebody is getting big," he whispered against my ear. His warm breath sending tingles down my spine. Even while I was pregnant, Michael made me want to do things to him. I rolled my eyes in response.

"I have two little people inside me. I have no choice, but to be big," I replied. Michael laughed and kissed my ear. "Don't try to act like you don't want this," Michael teased. I walked past him while shaking my head. "You and your "whoremoans" are going to get you a foot up your ass," I replied as I slipped into my bed.

Michael smiled. "I'll bend over if you do first," he purred. I gasped as I changed clothes. "You're worse than Solange, and she's pretty bad." Michael laughed. "I don't think there's nothing wrong with a little bump and grind." Michael winked and kissed my cheek before slipping his slender arms around me. He pushed me against him. I bit my lip and felt Michael hold my thigh. "If only we had a little more time," he whispered. I chuckled and began to slip away from him. "I gotta go get all these gifts Solange and her boyfriend keep sending me. They sent me a baby carriage for two, and so many diapers we might have some left over." Michael chuckled too and shook his head. "Solange is a saucy little thing; just like her sister." 

I stuck my tongue out before rolling my eyes. "Just don't expect her to just be nice to you. She was doing that because I was there, but when she gets you by yourself; she's going to grill you like meat." Michael froze in his spot. "Grill me?" I nodded as I changed into my sweats and wiped off my makeup. "You're going to bed already?" I shook my head as I sat on Michael's bed.

"Then, why are you lying in my bed?" "Correction it's our bed," I replied as I relaxed in the bed. The sheets were so soft and inviting to me. Michael shrugged and cut out the lights and slipped in beside me. The late afternoon sun still shined through the curtains. Michael pressed his front against my back.

I yawned loudly and rubbed my eyes. "Beyonce, you need to sleep. You're probably fatigued." I shrugged and rested my head on Michael's outstretched arm. He stroked my hair and began humming. He pressed his lips against my ear. I smiled and felt Michael kiss my bare shoulder. "Don't tease me," I whispered. Michael laughed. Its sweet sound feeling my ears and my heart.

"I love you though," Michael whimpered back. His doe like brown eyes widened. I couldn't say no to that look then. Michael smiled and brushed my hair. "You're so beautiful," Michael whispered as he stroked my cheek. I smiled and looked down. "You're going to be a wonderful Daddy," I admitted. Michael smiled. "I'm ready to see me babies," he replied. We held hands under the covers. Michael sighed.

"No, we gotta get everything ready Michael. Patience is key." Michael nodded as he yawned. I smiled and turned around. He rubbed his eyes and rested his head on the pillow. "Sleepy, baby?" Michael nodded and chewed his bottom lip. "I don't wanna sleep though," he pouted. I laughed as Michael tried to fight his sleepiness like a child. He sighed and rested his head on my chest. "I love you Beyonce." "I love you Michael," I replied. I ran my hands through his curly jet black hair.

I kissed the top of his head and wrapped my arms around him. I won't ever mess anything up with you. I love you Michael. You just don't know how I feel. I live for you. I love you Michael. I...love...you...

Michael was fast asleep in my arms. I stroked his hair once more before letting him rest on me. Michael was still for a while, before turning on his side. Michael's snores quickly fill the room. I laughed and turned on my side and slipped into sleep.

Michael's POV

Dana and I were picking out my outfit for an appearance in Italy next week. I yawned loudly and held a cup of tea in my hand. I despised coffee; it was too bitter for me. I hummed and rubbed my temples. "Michael, are you listening?" I looked up from my boots and nodded. "Perfectly fine," I whispered; not knowing what I agreed to.

When I tried on my outfit I stared at myself in the mirror. The yellow bruises still stood out on my skin. I gently poked one and hissed in pain. I gritted my teeth togetherin pure anger. I couldn't wait to get my hands on those bastards. "Michael!" Dana called, "we gotta go hurry up!" I nodded. "Comin'!" I quickly buttoned up my shirt to hide the hideous bruises. I put on my shades and fedora and walked out.

Dana and I sat in the car. "I'm sorry Dana," I whispered. Dana frowned as she sipped her coffee. "Why?" "All those mean things I said to you a few weeks back. I didn't mean to. I was just...mad, upset, and.....scared." Dana sighed. "I know Michael. Everybody was scared. I knew I wasn't doing everything right that night, and then you go and you get hurt. I felt like I was responsible for it."

"You weren't though," I replied, "I was. I stormed out by myself in the middle of New York at night. That was a bad idea." Dana nodded. "I knew I slipped up by getting mad at you though. The way you deal with my crap everyday and I treated you the I did-"

"Michael, I understand," Dana said. She rubbed her cheek and sighed. "We know so much about each other," she continued slowly. "You're a father, and Beyonce was there with you and everybody's well being was threatened that night. You scared me Michael, Beyonce scared me...hell I scared myself..but that doesn't matter Michael. I just didn't want you stay mad at me, and I didn't want to stay mad at you. It criples us as a team and as friends."

I nodded. "So, we're on good ground again?" I asked softly. Dana nodded. "You know I hate being mad at anybody, especially you. It's hard to be mad at you to be honest." I chuckled softly and felt my cheeks burn in embarassment.

"Thanks Dana," I whispered. "For what, Mike?" For everything. For being a good friend, for being the sweetest ex-girlfriend ever, for being my second mother, for just being there....

"For being Dana McNeil," I whispered with a smile.

Later on....

I chewed my bottom lip in frustration. "Ugh!" I threw my hands in the air and sighed. Beyonce was sitting in the leather chair across from my office desk. "What's wrong?" Bey asked. "Nothing...just tabloids," I hissed in anger. I just read a story about Beyonce faking about her pregnancy. "Tabloids?" Bey whispered as she walked over. Her brows knitted in confusion.

"This!" I hissed in anger. I jabbed my finger at the computer screen and rolled back so Bey could see. She stood in front of me and read the article. "Oh Michael this is BS. Why are you so upset over this? You know that's what the paparazzi and media does." I nodded. "It's just I'm a father and now my kids are going to be involved in this once they're born and I don't want them to be," I replied in one breath. 

Bey sighed and turned around. "Michael, you know what the truth is. Hell, you're looking at it!" I stared at Bey's stomach. She looked like a swelling balloon. "So, don't trip," Bey replied. She rested on my lap and smiled. "It's going to be wonderful when Prince-Monroe and Princess arrive. Nothing will ruin our day when they arrive." I nodded and hugged her. "You're right. Nothing can replace this feeling. This feeling of joy and love and babies!!"

I kissed her stomach and smiled. "Hurry up, you two!" I whispered. Bey laughed and kissed my cheek. "So, nobody is going to ruin your happiness," she confirmed. I nodded. "Nothing will," I replied. Bey smiled and kissed me once on the lips and then twice. Our lips locked tightly. The sweet honey taste of Bey made me yearn for more.

Bey pulled back and gasped. "You're going to make me go into early labor." I laughed. "You're the one that went first."

Author's Note: So, everyone at my school is at a party and I'm just sitting here in my bed watching Eddie Murphy's Delirious and writing. I have no life this year. I. fucking. Hate. Eight. Grade. I'm ready to stab 85% percent of those satanic little demon bird children! >.< ignore that...please. I'm just glad I finished this chapter. I've had a tough week. *sighs*