fic: not seeing what you're missing (jonas/hannah montana, nick/miley, g)
Title: not seeing what you're missing
Author: empressearwig
Pairing: Nick Lucas/Miley Stewart
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,400
Warnings: Nothing other than utter ridiculousness.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This didn’t happen. Etc.
Summary: Nick can't figure out why Stella's friend Miley looks so familiar.
Author’s Notes: I went google doc diving and found this. Yeah, I don't know either.
Nick doesn't like to brag, but he's kind of a big deal.
His mom would probably kill him for even thinking that, but it's true. Especially when it comes to girls. Stella's about the only one that treats him and Joe and Kevin like they're completely normal, but it's Stella. She doesn't really count. And not even Stella can stop her friends from being JONAS-obsessed. Macy's sweet and all, but she's known them for years and sometimes she still almost faints at the sight of them. Nick can't even remember the number of sports equipment related injuries he's had in the last three years.
So Nick's sort of surprised when Stella's friend Miley shows up to visit and is completely unfazed by meeting them. It's not like he wants girls to fawn over him or anything, but a little recognition would be nice. Would be normal.
Instead, when Stella brings her over to the firehouse and introduces her, Miley just smiles and says hello, and sits down and starts gossiping with Joe about what Stella was like at summer camp when they were eight.
It's not normal.
Nick flops down on one of the couches in the living room where they've all hanging out, choosing the seat across from Miley and next to Stella. He tries not to stare, but there's just something really familiar about her. Something he's sure he recognizes. He tells himself he's just trying to figure out how he knows her, and that how pretty she isn't doesn't have anything to do with it. Because he's barely noticed how her eyes sparkle when she grins at Joe, or how touchable her hair looks, or the way her laugh sounds when Kevin talks about the youtube video of an otter playing the guitar. He hasn't noticed any of that. And if he has, it's not like he can help it, she's sitting right there.
He must not do as good a job hiding the fact that he's staring Miley as he'd hoped, because suddenly Stella's elbowing him in the side, and he's trying to hide his grunt. Which, as he looks around the table was pretty pointless, since Kevin's not even hiding his giggles and Joe is shaking his head, like, here we go again, and Stella is rolling her eyes at him, and just why do they keep her around, anyway? There has to be someone else that can design their wardrobe. Nick doesn't even want to look at Miley, because if there's something worse than a girl who doesn't care that he's Nick Lucas, it might be a girl that doesn't care and is laughing at him.
But when Nick actually looks at Miley, she's not laughing. In fact, she's kind of narrowing her eyes at the three assholes that are supposed to be his brothers and family's best friend. And if possible he feels like even more of an idiot. Because Nick definitely doesn't need a girl to fight his own battles for him, especially not with his brothers.
He can't sit there and feel like this, so he blindly pushes away from the table and stalks into the kitchen, away from the mocking that he knows he deserves and away from the pity that he didn't ask for. He has his head buried in the refrigerator when he hears someone walk up behind him, and without looking to see who it is, he says flatly, "Go away, Stella." Because it's always Stella that they send after him when he's like this, and why would it be any different now? Even if this is completely her fault.
The answering, "It's not Stella," in the cute, sort of southern accent that he's been listening to all afternoon, surprises him so much that he hits his head on the freezer door. Great, just what he needs to make this day even better, a concussion.
Nick slowly straightens and turns around to face Miley, who's trying really hard to hide her laughter. Which is nice of her and all, but unnecessary at this point. He deserves it. "Go ahead and laugh," he invites with a sigh. "It's funny."
Miley grins at him instead, and he's even more sure that he's seen her somewhere before. "It is," she admits. "You're not usually like this, are you?"
His back stiffens at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well," she says slowly, making herself at home on the kitchen counter. "You're kind of a famous rock star. I can't imagine you're normally such a spazz."
He gapes at her, and she laughs.
Okay, Nick doesn't care how pretty she is, people just don't treat him like this. He opens his mouth to say something nasty, but before he can say a word Miley winks at him and says, "Sorry, my daddy always says that I have all the tact of a pair of raccoons in a beaver's nest."
Nick stares again and then he has to laugh, because who talks like that? And what the hell does that even mean? "Who are you?" he demands once he's pulled himself back together enough so he can actually talk.
Miley hops down off the counter and extends a hand. "Miley Stewart, nice to meet you."
He shakes it automatically, but he doesn't let go like he knows he should. He narrows his eyes at her, trying to place why he knows her face. Her voice. It's her voice, it has to be. He doesn't forget voices. "No, you're not," he says, shaking his head. "I know I know you, and you're not Miley Stewart."
She tugs her hand free, but now she's not quite meeting his eyes as she defends, "That's my name, I swear. I'm sure Stella has pictures that will prove that I'm me."
"But you're not."
Nick's words echo through the room as they stare at each other silently, each daring the other to back down from their position. Miley blinks first and turns to walk away.
"I'm going back to tell more Stella stories," she calls out. "There's a good one about her and a jar of peanut butter and a lanyard project gone wrong. Or right. You should come with if you're done sulking." Miley pauses for just a moment in the doorway, and looks back over her shoulder. "I promise I'm who I say I am. We can't all be rock stars, you know." And then she winks again and disappears through the door.
Nick watches her walk away. He knows he's not wrong about this. He knows her. It's not him obsessing about a girl like he always does.
He shakes his head. Who is he kidding, he is obsessing. He starts back towards the living room, and what she said hits him like a ton of bricks.
Rock star. Hannah Montana. Miley Stewart is Hannah Montana.
That's why Nick recognizes her. That's why he knows her voice. Her face. The way that she wrinkles her nose up when she's about to laugh. And he only knows that because Kevin is such a fan. Nick doesn't have a playlist of her music videos on youtube or anything. Because that would be kind of weird, even for him.
But it can't be. There's no way that Hannah Montana is sitting in their living room right now. There's no way that the girl that he's been staring at all afternoon is actually a famous rock star. Things like that don't actually happen. He's being ridiculous again. He has to be.
Nick sits down on the couch next to Stella again, and gives her a half smile when she pats his leg in apology. He looks across the room at Miley and she's leaning in close to Joe and waving her hands around in the air as she tells another story about camp. Joe and Kevin are hanging on her every word and laughing hysterically. She pauses for a second and pushes her long dark hair back from her face. She glances over at Nick, and he's suddenly trying to picture her face next to Hannah Montana's, and god, maybe he's not crazy after all.
She smiles at him and he can feel himself smiling back, which is just another weird thing about this day. Nick Lucas doesn't smile for no good reason.
Miley turns back to Joe and Kevin and Nick leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. Maybe she's not Hannah Montana. Maybe she's just another pretty girl that he's obsessing over way too fast.
He thinks he'll have a pretty good time figuring it out either way. He hopes she sticks around long enough to find out.
Author: empressearwig
Pairing: Nick Lucas/Miley Stewart
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,400
Warnings: Nothing other than utter ridiculousness.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this is all for fun. This didn’t happen. Etc.
Summary: Nick can't figure out why Stella's friend Miley looks so familiar.
Author’s Notes: I went google doc diving and found this. Yeah, I don't know either.
Nick doesn't like to brag, but he's kind of a big deal.
His mom would probably kill him for even thinking that, but it's true. Especially when it comes to girls. Stella's about the only one that treats him and Joe and Kevin like they're completely normal, but it's Stella. She doesn't really count. And not even Stella can stop her friends from being JONAS-obsessed. Macy's sweet and all, but she's known them for years and sometimes she still almost faints at the sight of them. Nick can't even remember the number of sports equipment related injuries he's had in the last three years.
So Nick's sort of surprised when Stella's friend Miley shows up to visit and is completely unfazed by meeting them. It's not like he wants girls to fawn over him or anything, but a little recognition would be nice. Would be normal.
Instead, when Stella brings her over to the firehouse and introduces her, Miley just smiles and says hello, and sits down and starts gossiping with Joe about what Stella was like at summer camp when they were eight.
It's not normal.
Nick flops down on one of the couches in the living room where they've all hanging out, choosing the seat across from Miley and next to Stella. He tries not to stare, but there's just something really familiar about her. Something he's sure he recognizes. He tells himself he's just trying to figure out how he knows her, and that how pretty she isn't doesn't have anything to do with it. Because he's barely noticed how her eyes sparkle when she grins at Joe, or how touchable her hair looks, or the way her laugh sounds when Kevin talks about the youtube video of an otter playing the guitar. He hasn't noticed any of that. And if he has, it's not like he can help it, she's sitting right there.
He must not do as good a job hiding the fact that he's staring Miley as he'd hoped, because suddenly Stella's elbowing him in the side, and he's trying to hide his grunt. Which, as he looks around the table was pretty pointless, since Kevin's not even hiding his giggles and Joe is shaking his head, like, here we go again, and Stella is rolling her eyes at him, and just why do they keep her around, anyway? There has to be someone else that can design their wardrobe. Nick doesn't even want to look at Miley, because if there's something worse than a girl who doesn't care that he's Nick Lucas, it might be a girl that doesn't care and is laughing at him.
But when Nick actually looks at Miley, she's not laughing. In fact, she's kind of narrowing her eyes at the three assholes that are supposed to be his brothers and family's best friend. And if possible he feels like even more of an idiot. Because Nick definitely doesn't need a girl to fight his own battles for him, especially not with his brothers.
He can't sit there and feel like this, so he blindly pushes away from the table and stalks into the kitchen, away from the mocking that he knows he deserves and away from the pity that he didn't ask for. He has his head buried in the refrigerator when he hears someone walk up behind him, and without looking to see who it is, he says flatly, "Go away, Stella." Because it's always Stella that they send after him when he's like this, and why would it be any different now? Even if this is completely her fault.
The answering, "It's not Stella," in the cute, sort of southern accent that he's been listening to all afternoon, surprises him so much that he hits his head on the freezer door. Great, just what he needs to make this day even better, a concussion.
Nick slowly straightens and turns around to face Miley, who's trying really hard to hide her laughter. Which is nice of her and all, but unnecessary at this point. He deserves it. "Go ahead and laugh," he invites with a sigh. "It's funny."
Miley grins at him instead, and he's even more sure that he's seen her somewhere before. "It is," she admits. "You're not usually like this, are you?"
His back stiffens at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well," she says slowly, making herself at home on the kitchen counter. "You're kind of a famous rock star. I can't imagine you're normally such a spazz."
He gapes at her, and she laughs.
Okay, Nick doesn't care how pretty she is, people just don't treat him like this. He opens his mouth to say something nasty, but before he can say a word Miley winks at him and says, "Sorry, my daddy always says that I have all the tact of a pair of raccoons in a beaver's nest."
Nick stares again and then he has to laugh, because who talks like that? And what the hell does that even mean? "Who are you?" he demands once he's pulled himself back together enough so he can actually talk.
Miley hops down off the counter and extends a hand. "Miley Stewart, nice to meet you."
He shakes it automatically, but he doesn't let go like he knows he should. He narrows his eyes at her, trying to place why he knows her face. Her voice. It's her voice, it has to be. He doesn't forget voices. "No, you're not," he says, shaking his head. "I know I know you, and you're not Miley Stewart."
She tugs her hand free, but now she's not quite meeting his eyes as she defends, "That's my name, I swear. I'm sure Stella has pictures that will prove that I'm me."
"But you're not."
Nick's words echo through the room as they stare at each other silently, each daring the other to back down from their position. Miley blinks first and turns to walk away.
"I'm going back to tell more Stella stories," she calls out. "There's a good one about her and a jar of peanut butter and a lanyard project gone wrong. Or right. You should come with if you're done sulking." Miley pauses for just a moment in the doorway, and looks back over her shoulder. "I promise I'm who I say I am. We can't all be rock stars, you know." And then she winks again and disappears through the door.
Nick watches her walk away. He knows he's not wrong about this. He knows her. It's not him obsessing about a girl like he always does.
He shakes his head. Who is he kidding, he is obsessing. He starts back towards the living room, and what she said hits him like a ton of bricks.
Rock star. Hannah Montana. Miley Stewart is Hannah Montana.
That's why Nick recognizes her. That's why he knows her voice. Her face. The way that she wrinkles her nose up when she's about to laugh. And he only knows that because Kevin is such a fan. Nick doesn't have a playlist of her music videos on youtube or anything. Because that would be kind of weird, even for him.
But it can't be. There's no way that Hannah Montana is sitting in their living room right now. There's no way that the girl that he's been staring at all afternoon is actually a famous rock star. Things like that don't actually happen. He's being ridiculous again. He has to be.
Nick sits down on the couch next to Stella again, and gives her a half smile when she pats his leg in apology. He looks across the room at Miley and she's leaning in close to Joe and waving her hands around in the air as she tells another story about camp. Joe and Kevin are hanging on her every word and laughing hysterically. She pauses for a second and pushes her long dark hair back from her face. She glances over at Nick, and he's suddenly trying to picture her face next to Hannah Montana's, and god, maybe he's not crazy after all.
She smiles at him and he can feel himself smiling back, which is just another weird thing about this day. Nick Lucas doesn't smile for no good reason.
Miley turns back to Joe and Kevin and Nick leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. Maybe she's not Hannah Montana. Maybe she's just another pretty girl that he's obsessing over way too fast.
He thinks he'll have a pretty good time figuring it out either way. He hopes she sticks around long enough to find out.