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Warmth on a Chill September Day	By : HeliosIkari Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Michael Jackson Views: 1691 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Warmth on a Chill September Day
- 1
Title: Warmth
on a Chill September Day
Author: Tyler “Helios” Green
Archived: Only here so far.
Summary: MJ gets lost in Brandon
Rating: R for the end
Pairings: Alan x Alexander mentioned
Feedback: E-mail or Review is fine
Characters: Tyler, Alan, Alexander, Michael Jackson, and Guards
Betas: Alexander Stevens-Davidson
Author Notes: This was based on a dream that I had
Disclaimer: Don’t own MJ or his bodyguards, he is his own person!
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Warmth on a Chill September Day
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Walking the gently curving banks of the Assiniboine River, I paused momentarily, allowing the chilled September wind to play with my hair. A lone male walked ahead of me, pausing every now and then to listen to the rustling golden leaves of the trees, or to glance around as if looking for something lost. Whoever he was, he seemed nervous, and I couldn’t blame him for it. From the way he was looking frantically at his surroundings, I assumed he had lost his way back to wherever he was coming from. The light, white jacket he was wearing was not suitable for this weather, so I called out to him, whistling to get his attention.
He froze on the spot and turned slowly to face me, and I nearly fainted in shock. Deep brown eyes, almost black, gazed fearfully out at me from beneath a thick, shimmering curtain of raven hair. His long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as his eyes slid closed, as if he was bracing himself for something. There was no mistaking that he was afraid of what I would say to him, the way he was worrying one pale reddish lip between his teeth. I cautiously stepped closer, almost afraid that the pale, surreal human being before me would run, but he didn’t. His wide brown eyes shot open again. He was shivering.
“Please,” I said to him, keeping my deep voice gentle. “Don’t be afraid.” He nodded a bit, his eyes still wide and frightened, almost like a child’s were when faced with a bully. It was so hard to believe this innocent being was a fully-grown man in his forties, because of his young face. Dark eyes that lured a person in irresistibly, a narrow pointed nose, a full curve of lips, and skin that was very pale in contrast to the darkness of his hair. This was no regular human being. This was Michael Jackson.
I extended my hand in a friendly manner, and instantly his stiff posture relaxed as his nervousness left him for a moment. He took my hand in a firm grip, and shook it. For as small as he seemed, he had a strong handshake, and his hand seemed easily as capable as my own, though not quite as large. I offered a small comforting smile, which was returned, almost shyly. The childlike innocence of it all made my heart melt. So much had happened to this poor soul in the past, and yet here he was, still innocent despite all that had happened to him.
“You’ll freeze out here in that outfit,” I said gently, and he seemed to agree with me. In fact, he arched an eyebrow as if to say ‘and just what do you intend to do about that?’ I allowed myself a quiet chuckle at his antics. “You can come home with me if you want.” I then offered, “My room mates and I will have you warm and comfortable when we get there, and you can use our phone and contact your bodyguards later tonight.” To my surprise, Michael nodded his head at me, almost enthusiastically.
“Anything would be better than being stuck out here.” Michael admitted. “Peaceful as it is… it’s also cold and lonely, and I don’t think I like it out here all that much anymore.”
“I think I can cure you of that chill,” I said. “Here, put this on.” I removed my warm leather trench coat, and draped it around his shoulders. Immediately he shrugged it on when he felt the heat, though it was a little big for him. He looked at me, a question clearly written in his expression, so I smiled, and said, “I am from California originally. People used to the warm temperatures there tend to suffer quite a bit through their first two falls and winters, as I did, so I understand how cold you must be right now. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine because I have lived here for three years already.” Michael stared at me, then smiled, assuming I must be right about the weather. I turned, intending to lead the way, but Michael stopped me for a moment by touching my shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said simply, and then he began to follow me, much to my amazement. He was so trusting! Was this man for real?
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“I hope you don’t mind my means of transportation.” I said to him, lifting my helmet off the seat as his eyes widened at the sight of my crimson and black Kawasaki Ninja. He shook his head, and looked at it in awe.
“You really drive this?” Michael asked. I smiled and nodded at him, gesturing for him to check it out. Michael walked around the Ninja, and for a moment I was worried that he would be scared off by the prospect of riding behind me, but he quickly gave me a look that told me that he was all for it, if he would be able to be warm at the end. I grinned broadly and handed him the helmet in my hands. “I left the spare at home, but you can have this. Don’t worry, we’re going straight to my place.” I checked to make sure my hair was still tucked under my sweater to ensure that it wouldn’t whip Michael, and it was. He pulled on my helmet, lowering the visor, and waited.
Hopping over the bike as I had countless times before, I started the engine, and then indicated the pegs where Michael would have to step on to mount the bike. He caught on quickly, and swung his leg over. For a moment, he looked for somewhere to grab onto, and finding no suitable handholds, he wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed gently. Once I had made sure he was ready; we were off in a roar of sound and a blur of colors. Glancing in the mirror on the handlebar, I saw Michael grin, even with the tinted visor, and his eyes slipped shut as he let out an enthusiastic whoop.
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“Well, that was fun.” Michael said, laughing softly, as we got off the Ninja in the garage. A blood red Pontiac Sunfire stood in the other half of the two-car garage, and for a moment he looked at me as if to ask if it was mine as well, but I shook my head.
“That’s Alexander’s car. You’ll meet him and Alan soon.” I explained. “I just have to warn you about one thing, however,” I looked at him seriously, “Alexander is homosexual and is married to his lover Alan, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything bad about them, though I know that you probably wouldn’t. It would hurt them if you did, because they have virtually every recorded album that you’ve ever made, and think very highly of you.” Michael smiled and nodded his agreement, then said something that surprised me.
“Love is just love. It doesn’t matter who is in love with whom. If you fall in love, you fall in love, and that’s all that really matters. I may not be interested in that, but I respect the others who have found love in that way.” Michael paused, and then looked at me. “By the way, you never did tell me your name, though you are very quick to tell me the names of people I have never seen before.” I gasped, as I realized that he was right.
“My name is Tyler,” I said quickly, mentally cursing as I felt my cheeks heating up with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry that I forgot to introduce myself up until now.” I quickly straightened my shirt and squared my shoulders as Michael took a good look at me. His eyes admired my olive-toned skin, my slanted eyes with their long eyelashes, my raven hair, and my lean, catlike Latin face. I tilted my head down to look at him, so that he could see the dark green of my eyes, and the flecks of gold that danced in them as I smiled. While I held his attention at my face, I slid one of my slender hands backwards and lifted the rest of my raven hair out of my shirt. The silken rope of hair shimmered with violets, bronzes, and reds as I let it fall, and he watched it in open-mouthed amazement. Michael reached for my hair with a questioning look in his eyes, and I allowed him to take it in his hands to look, once again feeling my heart melt at his innocence and his adorably childlike antics.
“Well, shall we proceed?” I asked him, and he readily agreed with a not of his head. “All right, then. Let us go inside and be warmed.” I opened the door, which was unlocked, and we stepped inside, the warmth of the house immediately soaking through my worn emerald green sweater and black jeans. I kicked off my runners, and called out. “Alan! Alex! You aren’t going to believe who came home with me!” There was a pattering of footsteps as Michael hung up our jackets, and then the two lovers were upon us.
“Oh, wow…” Alexander said softly, his wide, sapphire blue eyes glimmering as he saw who stood beside me. “Is that really Michael Jackson?” His somewhat feminine features lit up as he raced forwards and grabbed Michael tightly around his middle in a very tight hug. He had a silver-gray sweater on, and white corduroys. His platinum-blonde hair fell in little wisps about his elf-like face and made him seem like a picture come to life from a children’s story. Apparently Michael thought so too, because he gasped in awe, while holding Alexander in just as tight of a grip. Michael lifted a finger and lightly touched the curve of Alexander’s soft, pink lower lip, and let out a giggle as Alexander kissed his fingertip with a soft, feather-light brush of his lips. Alexander then winked, and quite suddenly kissed Michael on both cheeks, causing the older to stare open-mouthed, and flush to a bright red. He let go of Alexander, but unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough.
“Hey… Unhand my lover, you scoundrel!” Alan called in a mock-angry tone, and Alexander let out an adorable little yelp, darting back to Alan’s side and hugging him just as tightly as he had Michael. Alan’s blue-gray eyes shone with an inner light of wisdom, but in the bright blue depths there was the darkness of painful memories. Only three years ago, Alan had nearly died of cancer, and had almost lost everything he had come to love. Right now, however, Alan was the image of health and vitality. He had a bright, beaming smile on his chiseled, handsome face. He wore a dark blue sweater and black jeans, which was the perfect contrast to Alexander’s light clothing. His waist-length crimson hair gleamed like flames in the warm lighting of the hallway.
“Don’t just stand there like the lion on the Nelson column, Tyler. Introduce us!” Alexander chirped, and I blushed, embarrassed, as Michael laughed at what Alexander had just said.
“Michael, this adorable, and sometimes annoying little blonde is Alexander, and the redhead standing over there is Alan.” I pointed each of them out, and Michael smiled as he shook hands with both of them. Alexander pouted. He didn’t like to be called annoying.
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“You two get comfortable, and we’ll go prepare some cinnamon tea.” Alexander said softly. He and Alan motioned for us to enter the living room, where immediately Michael sank onto the black leather sofa, falling backwards with a yelp and then a childlike giggle as he realized how deep the cushions were. He was stuck there for a moment, his legs sticking straight up in the air as he tried in vain to sit up again. I grabbed his hands quickly and pulled him into a sitting position. Michael then shifted positions as he felt himself sinking again, and rested against the arm of the sofa in a lounging position. Stretched out, Michael looked like a big, contented cat, and I was almost surprised that he didn’t start to purr.
Now that we were sitting down, I took a good look at what he was wearing. A blood red satin shirt that I didn’t even know Michael possessed slipped along his frame in a gentle caress. The black dress slacks looked very sharp with it, and I smiled a bit. Surprisingly, Michael seemed to realize I was checking him out, and he squared his shoulders a bit, looking me right in the eye.
“I like your shirt.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks stain a bit, mainly because of the thoughts that shirt sent through my head. A tense silence followed, in which we both stared each other down, and then Michael’s eyes softened and he smiled.
“Thank you.” Michael said. “You don’t look so bad yourself, in that green sweater. It brings out the color of your eyes.” He reached over and touched the fabric of the sweater, and then smiled. “I see you’re lucky, and have soft sweaters… A lot of the time these hand-knitted ones are scratchy and annoying to wear.”
“My mother knitted it for me.” I said. “She insists that I need to bundle up and be careful in the cold weather. I have two others from last year, and the year before it, and the first one was too small for me because my mother, for some reason, made it like that. She thought that it was just going to be tight fitting, but it’s two inches too short. However, it might fit you, and I have never worn it except to try it on. Do you want it?”
“What color is it?” Michael asked.
“It’s the same color as that shirt you are wearing.” I replied.
“Then let’s see it.” He said. I nodded, stood up, and dashed up to my room to grab it.
A second later, I was back with the crimson sweater clutched in my hands, having jumped the last three stairs to return to the living room as quickly as possible. I presented the soft, hand-knitted bundle of fabric to Michael, who unfolded it and took a good look. He ran his hands over the soft yarn.
“Excuse me for a moment… I’ll try this on.” Michael said. I obediently turned my back to him, hearing the rustle of fabric as the satin shirt slid off, and he pulled the sweater over his head. There was a pause, as Michael straightened the sleeves, and picked up his shirt, and then with his shirt in his hands, he called out to me. “Okay, Tyler. You can turn back around now.”
I turned at him, and whistled appreciatively. The sweater, where it had clung uncomfortably to my body when I tried it on, and had been too short for me, it was just right for Michael and brought out traces of color in his skin that I had never noticed before. The soft yarn caressed his form like a lover’s gentle touch. With a pair of nice black jeans, it would be perfect. I watched as Michael folded his other shirt and placed it on the couch beside where he has been sitting, and then turned to face me again.
“It’s just lovely.” Michael said to me, his voice soft and breathy. “If you really don’t mind me keeping it, I will give it a good home.” He spun in the sweater, giving me a good look, and I smiled at him, thankful to see him pleased with it. He smiled back, that infectious billion-dollar smile he usually reserved for the fans lighting up the room. He then wrapped his arms tight around himself, and I chuckled, watching him enjoy the warmth of the sweater.
“Consider that sweater yours, Michael. It would be a shame for fine yarn like that to sit and collect dust all day, so I would be honored if you would keep it, and put it to good use.” I smiled, but as he reached back for his wallet, I stepped forwards and grabbed his hand just before he could reach it. “No cash required, Michael. Consider this a late birthday present from me.” He looked at me and smiled then.
“You really mean that?” Michael asked, his dark chocolate eyes sparkling. I smiled and nodded at him, and he looked like he could have jumped for joy.
“You’ve done enough for the world already, Michael. Please, let me do something for you instead.” I allowed him to pull me into an embrace, as Alexander and Alan chose that moment to return with the spicy cinnamon tea, a bottle of honey, sugar, cream, spoons, and four of the best teacups in the house on a tray. They took in the sight of my sweater on Michael, and nodded their approval. Alexander looked jealous, though, and I could completely understand why. It wasn’t every day that a person had Michael Jackson hugging them.
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“Here, Michael, this will warm you in no time flat.” Alexander said, while pouring the tea into cups in equal amounts. The first cup was passed to Michael, who took a sip immediately, not caring that it was still scalding hot. Finding it too spicy, he reached for the bottle of honey, placing a few drops of the sweet liquid into the drink. A quick stir, and Michael drank once more, this time sighing and letting his dark eyes slide closed in pleasure as the tea warmed him from inside.
As soon as we all had a cup of tea in our hands, Alexander took a sip of his tea and then, being the good host he was, he stood up, walked over to the stereo, and turned on some nice quiet music for background noise. It was jazz, but Michael didn’t mind this at all. In fact, he eventually gave in, snapping the fingers of his left hand to the beat and holding the teacup in his right. This made me smile a little, because soon I found myself unable to stop snapping my fingers to the beat as well. Jazz was one of my favorite types of music, and it never failed to make me smile. Michael caught my eyes, and for a moment, I could have sworn he was smirking at me, but maybe it was just my imagination. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he immediately averted his eyes, seeming to suddenly find interest in his teacup. It could have been my imagination, but I think Michael blushed.
“So what were you doing, wandering around out there?” I asked Michael. At this, even Alan and Alexander perked up, curious.
“I was lost.” Michael admitted sheepishly, and then sipped at his tea in thought. “My guards were nearby, and I knew I was pretty safe as long as they were there. Then, I started following the riverbank, and before I knew it, I was lost. I had been trapped in my head, thinking about the trial fiasco, and how I could have done things differently, and when I looked up, my guards were nowhere in sight.” Michael took in a shaky breath, unsure of himself, but I placed a hand on his knee in a comforting gesture, so he continued his story. “I just about panicked, but then I realized that it was actually kind of peaceful out there. I just went with the riverbank’s curves, assuming I would find the city, until suddenly, there you were, calling me. And now, here I am.”
“Well, you’re safe here with us.” Michael looked up at Alexander with an arched eyebrow over his teacup. “Hey! It’s true,” the blonde protested, as I snickered at him. “I would never let anyone or anything hurt you, Michael! Besides, they’d be a fool to mess with someone who is a black belt master in Karate.”
“Yes,” Alan added. “Alexander would defend you with his life, and so would I. Three years ago, I nearly died of cancer, Michael.” Michael gasped, looking sorrowful for a moment. His dark eyes shimmered, and I was afraid he was going to cry, but Alan went on. “I survived, because of your music. You can say whatever you want, but I owe you my life because you wrote that ‘Invincible’ album. Listening to your music gave me courage to fight against the disease and win.”
I merely sipped at my tea, wondering what Michael would say to that.
“I am flattered by the story, but surely I can’t be the only thing that helped you…” Michael smiled as he spoke. “You have a good friend and a caring lover, and the three of you are very close to each other.” He picked a little speck of lint off of the crimson sweater.
“You’re right, Michael.” I said, cutting into the conversation once more. “I also helped Alan, by being there and talking to him, keeping his mind off of his illness. I encouraged him to eat fruits and vegetables, and to keep his diet well balanced. If he ate enough, and Alexander brought him books to read and crosswords and things to keep his mind sharp, he forgot he was sick, forgot to lose hope, and ultimately he forgot to die, too.” I smiled at Michael, watching his reaction.
Michael took another swig of his tea, and then smirked ever so slightly. We all had to laugh because he looked like the cat that caught the canary, and then drank an entire pitcher of cream as a reward. It was almost like his way of saying ‘I told you so’ without needing words. Then, after that, we all fell into a comfortable silence, finishing the remainder of the tea.
There were several moments in which I glanced up at Michael, and he caught my eyes, and I could have sworn he winked at me, but it was just my imagination. I blinked a few times, looked at him again, but this time he arched an eyebrow at me in question, and I shook my head.
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“Well, I really appreciate all the trouble you guys went through to make me feel comfortable here,” said Michael. “I feel better now than I have in a long time, and for that I will always be grateful to you. The world needs more people who are kind and caring, like you are.”
Michael had just called his guards, and soon he would be leaving, but we had shared a half hour with him that I would never forget. I caught his eyes, as we all cleaned up our dishes, and motioned him over to me. He approached me, and for the first time that night I felt sorrowful, because I knew that he would be gone, and I would most likely never see him again. My eyes felt damp, and I shut them to keep Michael from seeing my tears. Alan and Alexander had vanished to put away our dishes, and the last thing I wanted to do was have Michael see me break down in front of him. I stared at him, he stared back at me, and then, quite suddenly, he was right in my arms and hugging me.
“I only knew you for an hour and a half,” I admitted, “but already I know that I will miss you.” To my credit, my voice did not crack, and I offered him a weak smile. “I hope you remember me, because, I will always remember you.” I held him gently in my arms, and he melted against my taller frame for just a few moments.
Just then, Alexander returned, Alan in tow, and they set up a Polaroid camera on a tripod. Then, remote in hand, Alan walked over and took up a position at my side. Alexander took up a position at Michael’s side. Then, we all linked our arms, and I forced myself to smile, even though I hated cameras. The camera flashed twice, and the little photos fell to the floor, where Alexander scooped them up immediately. He offered one to Michael, who watched it develop before placing it in his wallet.
There came a knock at the door, and we opened it to see two of Michael’s guards walk into the room. Seeing that Michael was unharmed, they stood passively in the hallway, waiting for Michael to be ready. I offered a weak smile at the guards, who returned it only partially. They seemed to be in a rush, so I didn’t question them about it.
Finally, after saying goodbye, and giving hugs all around, Michael was gone. He walked out the door wearing my sweater underneath his tailored white jacket. The guards followed him, one of them glaring at me and daring me to follow him. I stood stoically, and glared right back, causing the guard to flinch under my patented glare of death. After all, who were they to judge me when I hadn’t even met them before?
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I went back into the living room ten minutes later, intending to watch a little television before going to bed, and there, on the arm of the couch, was Michael’s satin shirt! He had forgotten it. I knew Michael would be upset to lose the expensive-looking shirt. I dashed upstairs, and changed into my red and black leather racing clothes that I had bought with the Ninja, and dashed out the door.
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With the shirt safely stowed under the seat compartment, I gunned the motors on the sleek racing bike and drove like I had not dared to drive with Michael. I made a fast gas stop at the shell on Victoria Avenue and First Street, and then sped my way along, avoiding as many red lights as possible. The Ninja purred like a kitten as I reached the highway and opened the throttle. Driving like a maniac, I made my way around the city perimeter.
Finally, as I was giving up hope, I saw a trail of vehicles leaving the city, and I just knew it had to be Michael and his guards. I sped up, flying at least twenty-five clicks over the speed limit, but I had to catch them or they would never stop. Fortunately, however, Michael looked out the rearview mirror, and saw me waving my hands frantically. The whole chain of vehicles pulled over, and Michael climbed out even as I was pulling up beside him. He had a confused expression on his face, and I could have laughed at how adorable it was, but I didn’t feel it was the time for that. Instead, I pulled off my helmet, breathless, and jumped off the Ninja with a goofy smile.
“Youforgotyourshirt,” I said quickly.
“Come again?” Michael asked.
“You forgot your shirt,” I repeated.
I flipped open the compartment and handed Michael the shirt, protected by the layer of plastic from dirt and grime. He opened the bag and saw the shirt in question.
“Thank you. I must have forgotten it in my rush to get moving again.” Michael smiled. “It’s a miracle you caught me, because I was just leaving the city!” He flashed that billion-dollar smile again, and I let myself drown in his eyes for just a few more seconds.
“Well, now you’ve got your shirt, so you can go in peace.” I said, smiling at him with a billion-dollar smile of my own. “I’ll not bug you or your guards anymore.”
Michael laughed, a musical sound that I would remember for the rest of my life, and quite suddenly, I knew things were going to be all right. With one final embrace from Michael, I then turned, and closed the compartment under the seat. I pulled on my helmet, stuck the visor down, and flashed him a peace sign with my fingers, which was returned.
I was about to swing my leg over the bike, when Michael stopped me. He pushed my helmet off, gazing deeply into my eyes. He leaned closer, his lips parted, and then…
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BEEP!!! BEEP!!! BEEP!!! BEEP!!! BEEP!!! BEEP!!! BEEP!!!
My alarm woke me, and I cursed loudly. With my fist I smashed the offensive plastic device into a pile of scrap material, not hesitating in taking out my wrath on it. It had ruined a perfectly good dream!
“FUCK!” I cursed loudly, seeing the evidence of my dream’s direction change tenting the sheets. “That is the LAST time I listen to ‘Bad’ before I go to bed!”
The End!
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Warmth on a Chill September Day