"Why the heck is there creamer in my coffee, Mark? I specifically said no."

"Oh sorry, Michael. I guess I just forgot."

"I'm paying you not to forget. Got it?"

"Well, of course. I just got rushed and the phone has been ringing non-stop and by the way, it won't kill you to gain an ounce," Mark finished with his usual teasing air.

Michael suddenly rose from the desk.

"I don't care what you think of my body, K!"

Mark froze and looked up at him. Where had that come from? Michael blinked and shifted his chocolate eyes.

"Okay," Mark answered quietly. Michael consciously melted back into his seat and after a moment Mark took a sideways glance at him.

Michael was wearing a white tee under a black miltary jacket with a red armband, smooth black slacks that hugged his bottom in an almost deliberate way. He was heavily made up complete with thick, black eyeliner and a hint of lipstick. His wet curls had been pulled into a excitable ponytail at the base of his neck with the usual loose strands dangling in front of his eyes. They were so distracting. Mark had always thought they gave Michael a bit of a slutty look.

Suddenly, Michael's thick lashes flicked up from their position on the desk. Mark wanted to comment further, but thought better of it and and quickly returned his gaze to his stack of papers.

Satisfied in a guilty way, Michael took a sip of his coffee and continued to work. Mark stole a curious glance in time to see him slowly drag his tongue over those full lips. Almost too slowly, as though he were savoring something other than the cream and sugar that Mark knew he loved.

He sighed inwardly. Michael had been the absolute devil to him the past week and he couldn't figure out why. Yes, Mark was aware of the strange, antagonistic behavior he aroused in Michael, but lately he couldn't seem to do anything right. He only hoped this sillines would pass. Though he could certainly find employment elsewhere he, privatly, would rather take it from Michael Jackson any day.



Michael pretended to concentrate on the documents in front of him. They were in preparation for the Bad Tour which was to take place through Europe during the following year and a half. That was all he knew. He'd only made it through the first sentence. Michael knew he was being unfair to Mark - moreso than normal, but he was making him question everything about himself. Shouldn't that warrant some anxiety?

Michael couldn't be gay. Hell, nobody would allow that. But then why was he always so horrible to Mark if he really was secure with himself? Mark wasn't the first he had treated this way either. There were others, though, not as close to Michael as Mark. There had been aides, dancers, studio techs; all what people would consider to be attractive young men. Whenever a man would make a pass at Michael he pretended to be confused by it and once he actually ran away. But so what? Mark was straight anyway...

Perhaps Mark was just a lousey assistant. Yes, that would be it. He was always trying to tell Michael what to do or how to do it. Michael hated that. Who does he think he is anyway? Trying to run the show for Michael Jackson. Phht!

He looked up at Mark sitting there sipping his coffee in his nice shirt and tie with his nice dark hair all fixed. Michael was getting pissier by the second. He wanted to say something, but what? He wanted to get a rise out of Mark, to make him shout back at him - for them to boil some emotions on eachother. Michael wanted to tell him to stop being such a pain, to stop looking the way he did - to stay out of his fantasies.

"Rrr...," Michael grumbled aloud. Mark calmly looked up at him. He could sense the tension in the room. Perhaps this was Michael's way of restarting their "conversation". Michael wasn't the best at it.

"What is it?", Mark asked. Michael, fit to burst, blinked for a moment.

"I...the...the creamer is giving me a stomache ache. I'm lactose intolerant."

Mark smiled toothily.

"What? You are not." He knew Michael had just made that up. It was so ridiculous and random that he couldn't help but laugh at his foolishness.

On the other hand, that seemed to be the end of the line for Michael. He glared at Mark, his smile beaming back at him. Mocking him.

"Ya know...damn you, Mark!," Michael squeaked. "You know what I think I should do?" he asked rising from his seat again. Mark turned serious too.

"What?" He wondered when this game would end. It was becoming a bit too much.

Michael knew now that he had been right from the beginning. He should have followed his morals even if they seemed against his thoughts. He didn't dislike gay people, but there was certainly no reason he needed to be around any of them. He didn't want to be influenced by them and that is exactly what he had allowed Mark to do!

"I should have done this a long time ago."

"What!?" asked Mark getting to his feet as well. This had gone far enough and Michael was behaving completely irrationally. He knew what was coming next and he found himself dreading it far more than he could have imagined.

"You...your services are no longer required! There!" he spat. Michael had never personally fired anyone before. It felt a bit empowering, but mostly just cliche and awkward - especially the way he'd just done it.

Mark felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He really didn't want this. He'd become so used to Michael that even his eccentricites were normal. He had never encountered a dull moment with him and now that Michael didn't want him anymore he couldn't see a day without him. Mark had to face his truth.

"Why! I help you! I cover your ass! I back you in anything that's a good idea and then take it to the next level." Mark was aware of how desperate he sounded. His heart was in his throat.

"Yeah, well I just took it to the next level," Michael retorted coldly.

They both stared, fuming, eyelevel with one another. Then, quietly, Mark voiced the knottiest question of all.

"It's because I'm gay, isn't it?"

"Wha-?" Michael blanched.

"You're prejuduce. And you know something else too?," Mark asked as he spun around for his breifcase, voice and composure mounting, "I know about guys like you, Michael Jackson."

"Really? What?" So Mark was going to fly the old prejudice flag in his face! Michael automatically moved to the doorway shaking with anger. "Well? What is it you think you know?," he said tucking a curl behind his ear and crossing his arms.

"Scared of your own shadow because it walks, and talks, and moves like you." Then Mark went for his exit, but Michael slammed his large palms to either side of the frame. His large were eyes serious and searching Mark's for answers...

"What is that supposed to mean?," he asked, obviously stalling for time. They stared at each other for a heated moment; Michael's tiny nose in a crinkle.

Mark desperately wanted to confess what he knew, but knew it would change nothing. In fact, it would only enrage him more. Mark did not parade his own sexual identity, but he knew Michael was definatly concealing something of his own and more than once, Mark had foolishly hoped he would be the one to discover it.

Michael had never looked at Mark this closely before. His dark lashes and thick brows were enticing him at this very moment. What was wrong with him? Mark’s gaze dropped to Michael’s full red lips. They were on fire like his eyes now.

Mark tore his stare from Michael and backed up. Then he exhaled and tried again to force himself through the door. He felt he was at the end of his tether and did not want to stick around and display his emotions.

Michael wasn’t finished yet. He grabbed Mark by the elbows to stop him. Mark tutted and looked something murderous at Michael. Michael stopped - not believing his own actions.

“Get the hell outta my way!” Michael could not let Mark leave. He had to know the truth.

“No.”

“Get outta my way, you little prick!” Mark dropped his briefcase to the floor with a clatter and slapped Michael across his cheek.

“Ouch! Hey wha-?,” Michael yelled and staggered against the doorway, but before he could form his question Mark grabbed him by his shoulders and forced him back into the office. “AH!,” Michael shrieked and toppled over. He made a grab for the only thing nearby which happened to be Mark’s scarf.

They both tumbled against the chair and desk knocking the lamp off the corner. Michael landed on his back between the two with Mark crashing into his armpit.

"Ow!"

“You idiot!”

“It was your fault!,” said Michael rubbing his head. There was an awkward pause in which neither said anything, but attempted to stand.

“Are you ok?” asked Mark. Michael wouldn’t look at him.

“Yes.” Michael was infuriated that Mark would dare attempt such a foolish stunt on him. Then again, why would Mark be so gutsy? Maybe because he’d just been fired. Or maybe because he’d always known how to push the envelope. Michael didn’t know how to take Mark’s aggressiveness. Michael was angry. Michael was confused. And through all of this why had Mark’s forceful behavior resulted in him feeling slightly... turned on!?

Michael straightened his jacket and faced away from his ex-employee, his arms crossed tightly. He was just waiting. Waiting for something. He felt his eyes begin to sting and his throat tighten to the point of choking him.

“Well, I guess I’ll go then, Michael.” Mark glared at the back of Michael’s head, willing him to turn around - just turn around and face him. He stared at Michael’s slender, black-clad form; his wet curls dangling between his shoulders. Michael sniffed.

“Michael?” Mark was thankful for a reason, for he was already rooted to the spot. He inched forward. “Michael, what-?” He reached his shoulder and managed to ease him around.

Michael’s eyes were glassy and one of his cheeks was quite red contrasting with his pale complexion. But it was the bit of red congealing by the corner of his mouth that really got Mark. He had assumed Michael to be every bit as delicate as a flower, but had not considered this when his own emotions had swept away with him - after Michael had hurt him.

Glad to have an excuse to show some mercy, Mark lifted a hand to Michael’s lips. Michael’s dark eyes suddenly glowed with rage and Mark knew there was no other time. Without thinking, without considering or calculating or worrying, Mark freed himself long enough to release his emotions upon Michael. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing mattered as long as he could tell Michael how he felt and how Michael should feel in return. He would take but a second; one fiery hot second. And that would be the beginning to their questionable end.

Mark pulled Michael by his sleeve to his own lips guiding him by his chin. Their lips bumped carelessly, unplanned at first, and Michael did not protest, but he did not kiss him back. Mark tasted blood as he timidly began to caress Michael’s swollen lips. He wanted to do so much to him.

Michael’s mind froze. He had so many questions. This felt so wrong, but why was he enjoying it so much? His fantasy was coming alive before him. Oh, how he hated Mark. Why did his lips feel so good?

Michael felt himself growing hard. He quickly put a hand over his groin to conceal the impure arousal. He raised a hand to slap Mark away, but it slowed and by the time it made it to his shoulder, came to a rest. Now Michael was furious.

Mark sped up his pace slipping his tongue inside Michael’s sweet mouth. The blood had stopped now and all he tasted was Michael’s plush lips with a hint of lipstick. Michael could feel his pillowy lips bumping softly against Mark’s - in a second he would stop this madness. Mark’s tongue slid between Michael’s lips and twisted with his tongue.

“Ummm,” Michael finally released - his cry pitieous, like that of the suffering. He had to stop this. He never wanted to stop this. Michael's curious palms slowly slid up Mark's shirt and his fingertips pressed gently to his chest. He could feel Mark's heart and heat beneath as their warm kiss continued to dance across eachothers lips.

As Mark breathed against Michael he knew he's never be satisfied until he could have him fully and completly. The desperate passion that was radiating from Michael made Mark feel like he could float right off the floor. He couldn't have imagined a more bittersweet ending to the now miles away disaster they were treading in. He had desired this more than he had let himself believe and now that his dream had materialized in a softness before him he moaned in a tone of unleashed passion from his soul. Michael wanted him.

"Ohhhh," Michael whimpered at Mark's lips. He felt his concentration slip and then disappear entirely. All of his tangled thoughts, guilt, and shame vanished leaving Michael to operate to nature's rhythem.

He flung his arms around Mark's neck from the passion and felt his knees give him away. Michael kissed Mark wildly. Inside, his body was telling him Mark had something he needed; something he must have. He held all of his pleasuring and all of the answers that he had to know.

Mark took Michael's wrist gently in his hand and began kissing his way down Michael's neck. Michael moaned with his eyes closed and his head tilted back. Mark held him around his back and under his arm, but it was no use. Michael's legs would no longer support him.

The two lowered to the office floor kissing and moaning. Michael lay gasping with Mark practically on top of him. All questions abandoned, Michael revelled in the throbbing sensation so hard between his legs, aching for more caressing than just on his arms and back. Mark's answer pressed inexplicably to Michael's hip. Michael now began to moan even louder than before.

Mark kissed Michael's cheek and quietly shushed him. Michael had forgotten all self control - he was used to getting everything he wanted. He couldn't hold a thought in his mind and was dizzy and lost by Mark's new taboo game. Mark had awoken the sleeping sexual demons within Michael and now he would have to exorcise them.

"Uh, God...Mark!", Michael wailed. Then, looking him the eye, he took Mark's hand and guided him to his special treasure. Mark watched so excited. His hand in Michael's slid slowly down the silky-thin black fabric of his tight slacks until it came to rest upon the nicest hunk of meat Mark had ever touched.

Mark slowly squeezed and rubbed at Michael's hard condition. Michael held his breath and then burst out again as the sweet sensation engulfed him. Nobody had been there before. He moaned and moved his hips against Mark's petting hand. It felt so good. He wanted Mark touching him like this. God, he wanted Mark's hands all over him! All over his thighs, his bottom, his penis, his nipples...

"Oh!," Michael whimpered. Feeling a little more agressive, he pulled Mark by his tie back to his lips where they frolicked some more. Mark slid on top of Michael with his own hardness pressing on Michael's hands.

Michael gasped slightly having never touched a penis besides his own. But his sexual instinct took him over not a moment later and Michael was soon rubbing Mark's phallus with ease. It was so warm and hard - just like his own. And Mark shuddered with pleasure as Michael stroked him.

They kissed and pushed against eachother, Mark's legs on either side of Michael's hips. Michael wondered what this would be like if they were both naked...he gave an excited shiver. Their hands were now as wild as their lips. Rubbing and stroking at each other. Michael was pushing himself hard against Mark. His mind fixed. His orgasm tingling so close.

Mark gasped in Michael's ear and then sat up pulling Michael with him.

"Michael," Mark whispered, his eyelids heavy and hair messy, "look what I have for you." Mark unzipped his slacks and pulled the hardness out that Michael had been humping against.

"Umm," Michael groaned and bit his lip as he laid eyes upon Mark's penis for the first time. His flesh was so full and stood proudly from his pants. "What should I...?" But he already knew exactly what he wanted to do to his enticing member. Michael slid his military jacket off and pressed his hands upon Mark's thighs. Mark brushed his curls encouragingly.

Michael nervously lowered his face to Mark's penis and began to lick, flicking his pink tongue first on his tip. It was so warm and fresh -it made Michael want to melt. Then he slid his mouth over his length pushing his flesh down and then pulling it back up with his full lips.

Mark began to moan and held to Michael's back occasionally scrunching up his tee in his hands. Michael loved hearing his moans and was relieved that he seemed to be doing it right. He was really starting to enjoy himself, sucking this lovely plump cock, as it was the sweetest lollipop he'd ever had. He was shocked by his own increasingly dirty thoughts and so aroused that he didn't really register the intercom call.

Beep: "Mr. Jackson? The car is here," came a female voice. It was so distant and far away - like in a dream. Michael continued pumping away at the succulent man-meat that was finally in his hungry mouth. Beep: "Mr. Jackson?"

"Michael..." Mark was whispering to him from somewhere...

"Ummm, (slurp) hmm-umm." Michael argued, not releasing his treat.

"Mr. Jackson? The car is here to take y-......oh." This time the voice had not sounded from the intercom, but from the office doorway. Michael jerked bolt upright in front of Mark who seemed to be frozen and unwilling to turn around.

Michael's wide eyes peered just over Mark's shoulder to look at Tina the Intruder - she also happened to be one of his aides.

"K, thanks. Be right there," Michael heard himself squeak. Tina said nothing in return, but forced a sort of smile that looked more like a grimace and quickly disappeared.

Michael and Mark stood shakily. How long had they been down there? They quickly tried to straighten their clothing and calm irritated body parts. Michael grabbed his jacket and glanced in the mirror. His makeup was fine except for his swollen lips and smeared red lipstick. Mark noticed this along with his desheveled black curls and immedietly felt his manhood spring back to life. He coughed and looked away.

"Let's go," Michael said, as he finished dressing and led them out the door.

Well, Mark thought, at least now I know how to keep him quiet.