fic: the talk is louder than i'll sing (disney rpf, nick/miley)

[empressearwig]

Title: The Talk is Louder Than I'll Sing
Author: empressearwig
Pairing(s): Nick/Miley, Kevin/Danielle (hints of David/Selena and Joe/Demi)
Rating: R
Word Count: 9700
Disclaimer: This isn't real, none of this happened, it is all for fun, etc.
Summary: Kevin's getting married. Everyone else is just along for the ride.
Author's Notes: Written for coffeecommunity for the jb_ficexchange. Thanks to perfectlystill and leobrat for the help. This was written well before Kevin's actual wedding plans leaked and the wedding happened and pictures of Miley and Liam kept showing up everywhere, so let's all take a ride on Mr. Peabody's WABAC Machine, okay? Originally posted here.


When Nick sees Miley at the wedding, it's like a punch in the stomach he wasn't expecting. He should have been expecting it; he'd been mentally preparing for this day since Danielle got that little RSVP card back. But somehow he's not ready to see her sitting in the church next to Demi, to see her looking so pretty, so happy, so Miley. Maybe he never was going to be ready to see her. He doesn't want to think about what that means.

Nick knows he's staring, and when Demi catches him he panics a little. But all Demi does is smile and wave, and he lets himself relax, but then she's nudging Miley and the panic starts up all over again. Miley turns her head and looks straight at him, and their eyes meet for the first time since they said goodbye in Dallas. Nick doesn't think he can breathe. He should probably be more worried about passing out in front of a church full of people, but all he can see is how blue Miley's eyes look and all he wants is for everyone else in the room to disappear and to be alone with her for just five minutes. He's pretty sure that he would give anything to be alone with her right now.

Joe elbows him in the side, and hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "Stop staring."

"I'm not," Nick answers, shifting his gaze to his brother before looking back at Miley. She looks as shell-shocked as he feels, and something in his chest lightens for the first time in months.

Joe opens his mouth to say something else, but the church suddenly fills with music and the bridesmaids start making their way to the altar, and Joe settles for giving Nick a look that very clearly means Nick needs to stop acting like a girl.

Nick ignores him and tries to focus on the procession, reminding himself that today is about Kevin and Danielle. But as the wedding march starts and Danielle walks down the aisle in her long white dress, he sneaks another look at Miley.

He thinks that he's never seen Miley look prettier than she does today. He thinks that he's probably never going to get over her.

Danielle reaches the altar and takes Kevin's hand. Nick turns automatically to face the minister, but he can't stop wondering if Miley is thinking about how she thought they'd get married someday. Because he can't seem to think about anything else.

*

It's not till later, at the reception, that Nick gets a chance to talk to Miley. There's too much to do, and he wants today to be as perfect for Kevin and Danielle as possible. So Nick makes sure Joe stays out of the champagne long enough to give his toast, and plays the guitar for their first dance, and lets Danielle's sister step all over his feet as he tries to lead her around the dance floor. He stops wincing in pain after the tenth time. If there's an award for best brother, Nick's pretty sure he earned it today.

Nick can't quite stop himself from taking furtive glances at the table in the back where Miley is sitting, though. Danielle sat all their friends from Disney at one table -- Demi, Selena, David, Nicole, Chelsea, and Miley -- and from the bursts of laughter that keep erupting, it sounds like they're all having the time of their lives. Joe abandoned him to go hang out with them ages ago, and Nick really wishes he could do the same. He tries to tell himself that it's not just about wanting to see Miley, but he hears the sound of her laugh from across the room and he knows that he's lying to himself.

He takes Danielle's sister back to her seat and does his best not to limp. Joe is going to owe him so big for this.

Kevin taps him on the shoulder, and Nick turns to look at his brother, who already seems older somehow. Kevin doesn't say anything, but envelops him in a hug, and Nick hugs him back, hard. Kevin's married. Nick's still not sure he'll ever get used to that.

"Go hang out with our friends already," Kevin says, letting Nick go and stepping back. "You know you want to."

Nick hesitates for just a second. "Are you sure?" he asks, torn between what he wants to do and what he thinks he should do.

Kevin nods. "Thanks for everything you've done today, Nick. But go have fun." He smiles, and a hint of mischief comes into his eyes. "Dance with Miley."

"What? No --" Nick starts to deny that's exactly what he wants to do, but Kevin's already walking away, slipping an arm around Danielle's waist. Nick watches Kevin kiss Danielle, and then looks at the table in the back. He sees Joe reach out to twirl a piece of Demi's hair and Demi bat his hand away. He notices the way that David's arm is balanced over the back of Selena's chair, the way that Selena is leaning back into it just a little. Chelsea's blonde head and Miley's brown one are huddled close together, and Nick wonders what they're talking about. He didn't even realize they knew each other. Nicole's not sitting with the rest of them, but he spots her out on the dance floor with Frankie, and he smiles, because that's exactly like her.

Nick jams his hands in his pockets and walks slowly towards their table. Now that he can do what he wants, he's suddenly nervous. They haven't talked in months, and he doesn't know what he's supposed to say. Is he supposed to apologize for not calling often enough last summer? Apologize that he was happy when he read in the tabloids that her relationship with her stupid, foreign co-star didn't work out? He could do the first, he thinks, but he wouldn't mean the second. And besides, Miley owes him some apologies too. Like for not waiting when she said she would.

Nick really thought she would wait. Maybe it wasn't fair to ask her to, but he really thought she would.

Demi notices him first, and waves with the hand that's not trying to keep Joe from literally being in her hair. "Nick!" she says happily. "Come control your brother, would you?"

He sees Miley's back stiffen just a little, and she turns her head, smiling cautiously at him. He tries to smile back, but he's so nervous it probably looks more like a grimace instead.

"As if Nick can control me," Joe scoffs at Demi, and then says to Nick, "What took you so long?"

Nick sits down in the empty chair between Selena and Chelsea, and makes a face at his brother. "One of us had to remember that they were the best man."

Joe rolls his eyes at Nick. "Being best man doesn't mean you can't have fun with your friends." He nods his head towards the dance floor where Kevin and Danielle are swaying slowly, totally oblivious to the rest of the world. "Besides, does it look like they don't think everything is completely perfect?"

"Now boys," Chelsea interjects. "No fighting on Kevin's wedding day." She grins a little wickedly, and Nick remembers why she and Joe get along so well. "Not when there's all sorts of free champagne floating around." She raises her champagne flute to make her point, waving it back and forth. "Right?"

"Here, here," David says, picking up his drink and clinking it against Chelsea's. "Where's your glass, young Jonas?"

"Underage, remember?" Nick reminds him. Not that he thinks it will matter to David. He doesn't think much like that matters to David.

"It's your brother's wedding." David shakes his head at Nick in dismay. "We even got Selena to have a glass."

"One glass," Selena says quickly, wrinkling her nose at David. "Just one."

"For now," David agrees, his voice laced with fake sincerity. He reaches over to tickle Selena's side. She squirms away from his hand, but doesn't shrug off the arm that's now settled firmly across her shoulders.

Nick wonders just what is going on between the two of them. He sneaks a glance at Miley, and wishes that he was sitting next to her doing the same thing.

David raises his hand to flag down a passing waiter whose tray is filled with champagne flutes. "One for the gentleman across the table, please," he says, nodding his head towards Nick. "Thanks."

The waiter sets the glass down in front of Nick and looks around the table. "Anyone else?"

"I'll take one," Joe says, downing what was left of his champagne. The waiter hands him a new glass and Joe nods his thanks before the waiter leaves the table.

"A toast is in order, don't you think?" David says, eyebrow raised at the table at large. "Young Jonas, why don't you do it? We already heard Joe's version earlier." He turns his head to look at Joe. "Well done, by the way."

"Thank you," Joe says, voice full of false modesty.

Demi elbows Joe in the side. "Go ahead, Nick." She gives Joe a fake sweet look. "Show your brother how it's done."

"Hey!" Joe exclaims, and Demi elbows him again. "Shutting up now," he mutters under his breath.

"Uh, okay," Nick stammers. He tries to think about what to say. What he can say. He picks up his glass and doesn't look at Miley, because he knows he won't be able to say anything at all if he does. "Here's to Kevin and Danielle. Here's to being with good friends. Here's to free champagne." He looks at Chelsea and grins, and she laughs appreciatively. "And here's to what brings us all together today." Now he does look at Miley, who is looking steadily back at him. "Love."

"To love," everyone choruses, clinking their glasses together recklessly.

Nick takes a sip of his champagne and looks at Miley again. She's still looking at him in that same steady way, and it's making his palms sweat. He really wishes he could tell what she was thinking, but for once, she's managing to not give everything she's thinking and feeling away in her eyes. It would figure. He finishes the rest of his glass in one drink.

He's barely aware of Joe saying, "Was that it? Because my toast was --" before Demi drags him off to the dance floor, leaving just him, Miley, Chelsea, Selena, and David at the table.

"Dance with me," Selena says, and Nick sees her tug on the hand David has on her shoulder out of the corner of his eye.

The two of them disappear into the crowd of dancers, and there are just the three of them left.

He sees Chelsea look back and forth between him and Miley, and she says, "Well, I know when I'm a third wheel. Bye, guys." Chelsea slips from her chair, champagne flute in hand.

That leaves Nick alone with Miley, and his mouth has gone dry, from nerves or the champagne, he's not sure. He wants to say something, anything, but it's like his brain and mouth have disconnected and nothing is coming out.

Miley slides into Chelsea's empty chair, and looks up at him expectantly.

"Hi," Nick manages to say, and god, that sounds stupid even to him. It's just -- she looks so pretty in her blue dress. It's making her eyes look even bluer and her curls are tumbling around her face in a way that makes him want to touch them. Touch her. He doesn't know if that's allowed.

Miley reaches out and takes his hand, twining their fingers together. "Dance with me, Nicky," she says, and there's something in her voice that he wishes he could identify. He thinks it might be hope.

Nick nods dumbly, and lets her lead him to the dance floor. The band is playing some slow country song that he doesn't recognize, but that Miley probably knows by heart. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he settles his hands against her back. He can feel the heat from her skin through her dress, and he has to resist the urge to pull her tight against him, so that she can warm him everywhere.

They're almost the same height with her heels on, and Miley barely has to tilt her head up to look at him. "Kevin and Danielle look so happy," she says softly, and she sounds almost wistful. Like she wishes she were as happy as they are.

Nick nods again, and tries to find his voice. "I think they are."

"I was really happy they invited me," Miley says, not quite meeting his eyes now. "With everything, I wasn't sure --" She bites her lip and stops talking, and Nick tries to figure out what she was going to say next.

Which, wait. Miley doesn't really think that they'd cut her out of their lives, does she? Except that's more or less what happened two years ago, so maybe it's not so strange that she would think that now. Nick sighs. Just once, he'd like for their past not to come between their present. "Miley, it wasn't even a question to invite you," he says firmly. And it wasn't. Kevin had asked, yeah, but Nick hadn't even needed a second to say it was okay.

"Really?" Miley asks, looking him squarely in the eyes again. "Because I would have understood --"

"Really," Nick says as sincerely as he can. He needs her to believe him. They'll never get anywhere if she doesn't believe him. "I wouldn't lie to you, you know that."

Miley laughs a little and smiles at him, smiles with her eyes, and something in his stomach loosens. She tightens her arms around his neck. "That's true."

Nick takes a chance and pulls her closer to him, and he gives a mental sigh of relief when Miley doesn't resist and rests her head against his neck. He breathes in the scent of her hair, thinking it smells like flowers, and it makes him remember when they were younger and they'd lay together on the couch in her family room. Everything was so simple then. It was so easy to be happy and together.

He wishes it could be like that again.

The song ends, and something faster takes its place. Miley steps back, and looks at him questioningly. Nick sees Joe twirling Demi in circles and Selena tipping her head back in laughter as she and David continue to move slowly together, to music apparently only David can hear. They could dance, Nick thinks, but what he really wants is to be alone with Miley. And he'll never know if he doesn't ask.

Nick holds out a hand. "Want to take a walk on the beach instead?" He almost holds his breath waiting for her answer.

Miley slips her hand into his. "Lead the way," she says, and something about the way she says it makes him think she might be talking about more than the way to the beach.

He smiles at her and guides her towards the french doors that open up to the beach. He really hopes that he's not wrong about what's going on here. He's not quite sure what he'll do if he is.

*

The moon is bright overhead and there's a warm breeze blowing through the night air. It's not too hot, and it's not too cold, and the beach and the water seem to stretch on endlessly into the dark. The music from the reception flows out of the hotel, but there doesn't seem to be any other noise at all.

It's peaceful and calm, and the exact opposite of how Nick feels. He loosens his tie and unbuttons his collar. He stares out at the dark water, and tries to steady his racing heart.

Miley holds onto Nick's shoulder for balance as she slips off her sandals, hooking her fingers through the straps. She takes his hand again and looks up at him with a smile. His smile, he thinks. "Ready?" she asks, and Nick has to smile back.

They wander down the beach hand in hand. They don't speak, and the muffled sound of music and the ocean lapping at the sand is all Nick can hear. Miley's palm is hot against his, and he can feel that heat radiate through his entire body. No one else has ever been able to make him feel so much by doing so little. Nick thinks that maybe it's time he stopped taking that for granted.

Miley's voice breaks the silence. "You totally ripped off The Princess Bride."

Nick blinks. He has no idea what she's talking about. "What?"

"Before, when you were making your toast." Miley looks up at him with an impish smile. "I know you've seen that movie, I only made you watch it with me a hundred times."

"I know, I remember," Nick nods, a confused look on his face. "But I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," Miley insists. "You know, the wedding scene?"

Nick stares at her blankly, wracking his memory for a clue as to what she means. "Honest to god, Miles, I don't."

Miley sighs heavily. "Fine," she says, rolling her eyes at him. "I guess I'll just have to do it." She lets go of his hand, and stands straight as she can. "Mawwage is what bwings us togethew today. Mawwage, that bwessed awwangement, that dweam within a dweam," she intones, expression solemn and accent heavy. "And wove, twue wove, wiww fowwow you fowevah," she concludes, gesturing expansively with the hand that's holding onto her shoes.

The only thing Nick can do is stare. And then laugh. He laughs so hard he doubles over at the waist, holding onto his stomach helplessly. He can feel tears prick at his eyes, but there's nothing he can do to stop the overflow of laughter.

This -- this is why he needs Miley in his life. No one else can do this to him. He wouldn't let anyone else do this to him.

Nick tries to look up at her, but she's staring down at him with an eyebrow raised and her arms crossed over her chest and if it were possible to tap a foot against the sand, Nick's pretty sure that Miley would be doing that right now. It just makes him laugh harder. "I'm sorry," he wheezes out between laughs. "It's just -- you looked so --." He gives into the laughter and collapses back in on himself, clutching onto his sides, which are beginning to ache from laughing so hard.

"It wasn't that funny," Miley huffs, but when Nick peers up at her, there's a smile twitching around the corners of her mouth.

"It really was," Nick manages to say, as he attempts to pull himself together. He takes deep, calming breaths and straightens back up to his full height.

Miley sticks her tongue out at him. "I can go back inside, you know," she threatens. "I don't have to stand here and take this."

Nick just raises an eyebrow at her. "Empty threat, Cyrus. You know you don't want to go back in." And he sort of holds his breath for a second, because what if he's wrong? He doesn't want to be wrong about this.

"Well, no," Miley admits, looking down at her feet, her toes dragging patterns in the sand. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't anyway."

"That makes absolutely no sense at all," Nick says, shaking his head and laughing just a little. He doesn't know why he expects Miley to make sense. He's never been able to figure her out completely.

Miley shrugs, raising her eyes to his. "That's a woman's prerogative, Nicky. I'd think you'd be used to that by now."

"Fair enough." Nick stares at her, her hair blowing back and forth in the breeze, her eyes shining brightly, her cheeks flushed from humor or temper or something else entirely. She looks so pretty. He can't help himself and he reaches out to touch her cheek, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

Miley inhales sharply, but doesn't move away from his hand. Her lips part just a little and she looks up at him, her eyes dark and unreadable.

Nick steps closer, waiting for a sign that she doesn't want this, that he needs to stop. Miley stares steadily up at him, not giving anything away. He slides his hand back into her hair, threading his fingers through the windblown mess. She tilts her head back and curls her fingers around his tie.

He decides to take that as his sign, and bends his head to kiss her.

It's like getting punched in the stomach all over again. Nick never remembers what Miley's kisses do to him; how he can get drunk off them in seconds, how when he's kissing her the entire world ceases to exist. She tastes like champagne and something sweet, and he wants to kiss her forever. He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her tight against his body. This is what he's wanted for months, since he kissed her in Dallas when they said goodbye. He doesn't want this to end the same way.

But Miley breaks the kiss and steps back, looking away from him, out at the ocean.

Nick stares at her in confusion, trying to figure out why she stopped. "Miley," he says, willing her to turn and face him.

"How cold do you think the water is?" Miley asks instead, stepping closer to the water's edge.

That wasn't exactly what Nick was expecting. "I don't know, why?" He takes a step toward her. "Miley, don't you think that --"

Miley looks back at him, and the look on her face scares him. Nick knows that look. He's seen that look on her face every time she's ever gotten him to do something that he knew he shouldn't. Like the time that she convinced him to sneak out of the house at night so that they could ride their bikes to the park and watch the stars. He'd never seen his parents so mad. But the look on Miley's face when he agreed to go, the way it had felt to lay on the grass with her head on his chest, the kisses she'd given him, it had made all of the yelling worth it.

Nick hopes this will be worth it too, because he already knows that he won't be able to say no.

Miley drops her sandals to the sand and spins around. "Want to go swimming?"

And that really wasn't want Nick was expecting. He probably should have been; he knows how Miley feels about the water. It makes her feel free -- like anything is possible. But they're at a wedding. There could be paparazzi anywhere, though he hasn't seen any in hours. It's night and it's February. Nick doesn't care that they're in the Bahamas, there's no way the water will be warm enough. And they don't have swimming suits. Which makes him wonder. Is Miley suggesting what he thinks she's suggesting?

She's still staring at him, waiting for an answer, and Nick tries to think of a way to make her realize it's a bad idea without aggravating her stubborn streak. She's one of the only people he's ever met that's more stubborn than he is. It's one of his favorite things about her. It's one of his least favorite things about her. "It's going to be cold," he warns, even though he knows it's a lame argument that won't convince her of anything.

Miley shrugs. "Cold water is good for the skin."

He groans. "Miley..."

"Nick." She's smiling at him like she knows she already won. And she has, they both know it. It probably means something that he doesn't let anyone else win so easily. This probably isn't the time to think about it.

"There's nothing I can say that's going to convince you that this is a bad idea is there," he says like it's a statement of fact, not a question, because, yeah. It is.

Miley cocks her head to the side, considering. "Probably not, no."

He narrows his eyes at her as something else entirely occurs to him. "How much did you have to drink?"

"You think I'm drunk?" Miley asks incredulously, letting out a laugh that seems to echo in the air. "Nick, come on. How long have you known me? You think I would need to be drunk to suggest this?"

He doesn't think that. But he knows that he only had one glass and he feels a little bit drunk. But that could just be Miley. He shakes his head.

"Well then," Miley says, like that's his answer. "Are you in or are you out?" She pushes her hair out of her face and the strap of her dress falls down off her shoulder just a little, and Nick gives in.

It's futile to hold out against Miley when she's like this. And anyway, a really big part of Nick wants to do this. If he didn't want to do this, he'd actually be the girl that Joe's been hinting that he is. A beautiful girl, a girl that he's been in love with since he was thirteen years old, is standing in front of him asking him to get either naked or half-naked with her, and he's a seventeen year old guy, not a monk. The part of him that wants to do this is bigger than the part that says that this is a terrible idea and that they're dead if Disney finds out or a photographer is lurking behind a sand dune or something. The part of him that wants to do this was never going to let him say no.

So Nick nods with a resigned shrug of his shoulders, and Miley actually claps her hands and jumps up and down in glee. He smiles. He loves seeing her like this. He loves her.

"We're going to get in so much trouble for this if we get caught," Nick cautions, shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it to the ground.

Miley steps up to him and unknots his tie, pulling the thin strip of material out from under his collar. She tosses it on top of his jacket. "So we don't get caught."

He gulps, mouth suddenly dry again. "You don't think the going back into the reception with wet hair is going to give it away?"

"Who says we're going back to the reception?" Miley counters, unfastening one button on his shirt, then another. She's staring at his shirt front with absolute concentration, like it's a puzzle that she can solve if she just pays enough attention.

Nick wonders if the same thing would work on her. He puts a hand over hers, stopping her from undoing the rest of the buttons. He just wants to be really sure what they're talking about here. Because he thinks she might be offering something that he wasn't expecting and that he never thought would happen like this, and yeah, he needs to be sure. Even if that makes him a girl. "Miley."

"Nicholas." She looks up at him, biting at her lower lip. She shakes her head and her bangs fall in her eyes. "Just -- let's just do this, okay? I'm tired of thinking about everything. Aren't you tired of thinking about everything? I just want to do something. With you."

He stares down at her, sees the pleading and tiredness in her eyes. She's right. He's tired of thinking. Thinking is what gets them in trouble. When they think about things, when they try to be responsible and grown up and all the things that they shouldn't have to be at seventeen, that's when things go wrong. So maybe, this once, it's better to not think. To be seventeen, to do something that's just for them.

He nods slowly, and lets go of her hands. He slides his hand up her arm, drawing the other strap of her dress down off her shoulder. He rubs his fingers across her smooth skin, and Miley's eyes flutter closed for just a second at the contact. Then her fingers are back to work at his buttons and she's pushing his shirt off his shoulders. Her hands trace across his bare chest, and he has to bite his lip to stop from letting out a small, pathetic moan. It just feels so good, and he doesn't want to embarrass himself. He can feel himself starting to get hard and they haven't even done anything yet.

Her fingers tug at the curls at the base of his neck, tug at his head till he lowers it to kiss her. Her mouth parts beneath his and she sweeps her tongue against his, and there's an urgency to it that he doesn't think that has ever been there before. It's hot and wet and he pulls her hard against his body, lets her feel what this is doing to him. What she's doing to him. And he doesn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't to have her roll her hips against his like that. Now he does moan, and he reaches for the zipper of her dress. But he wants her to be sure, to have both of them be sure, though he's pretty sure that his dick already made his decision for him.

So he breaks the kiss and pulls back just a little, staring down at her. "Okay?"

She just looks back up at him, lips swollen and hair mussed, and she nods, pulling his head back down to hers.

And okay, he's willing to take that as an answer. He tugs the zipper of her dress down, parting the material beneath his hands, running his palms across her bare skin. She makes a little whimpering noise against his mouth, and it's pretty much the best thing he's ever heard.

She bites gently at his lower lip, and trails kisses across his jaw and down his throat. He closes his eyes as the sensation washes over him, because yeah, she still knows how to make him lose his mind. Her hands run down over his chest, and he lets out a little hiss as her nails scrape across his skin. It feels like every nerve ending is on overload and he could explode at any moment. He's more than half hard now, and he's trying to think about anything other than how good this feels, because if he doesn't, he's going to show her just what she does to him really quickly. Too quickly.

She reaches for his belt and he jumps back almost by reflex. He grabs for her hands and says with a nervous laugh, "Why don't you let me do that?" He just needs a minute of her not touching him. Even though he doesn't want her to stop.

There's a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth, like she knows exactly what she's doing to him and that she likes it. Likes having this kind of power over him. But she nods and lets go of his belt buckle, and he gives mental thanks for that small mercy.

He only gets seconds to be grateful, because she steps back from him and starts to shimmy out of her dress. All he can do is stare as her skin is revealed inch by agonizing inch. He's pretty sure he's drooling. He knows that he's harder than he's ever been before. He tries to bite back a groan, but she looks up at him and smiles triumphantly. He didn't even know they were fighting a battle, but she just fired the kill shot and they both know it.

Her dress drops to the sand below her feet, and she kicks it onto the pile of his clothes. She's standing in front of him in just her bra and underwear, and it's the hottest thing he's ever seen in his life. He's seen her in bikinis before, sure, not even that long ago, but this is different somehow. She's totally in control, and he wonders when she got so confident, so sure of herself.

He didn't realize she'd changed so much in two years. There are curves that he's never seen, curves that he's never touched. He wants to learn her new body so that he knows it the way he knew her old one. He wants to learn how fit their bodies together, to find a way to bridge the gap between what they were and what they are.

He mostly just really wants to touch her and make sure that this is actually happening.

"Are you sure I can't help you with that?" she asks, reaching for his belt buckle again and he almost stumbles over his feet backing away.

He shakes his head frantically and says, "No, no, no." Yeah, it's embarrassing to have so little control, but it's better than actually showing her how little control he has. And if she touches him right now, she's going to get a demonstration.

She smirks a little. "That's a no, then?"

"Yes. No. Yes." He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of lust long enough for him to form a rational thought. "Jesus, Miles."

She laughs. "I'm sorry, am I distracting you or something?"

"You know exactly what you're doing," he growls, narrowing his eyes at her. This is good. If he can concentrate on beating her at her own game, he might be able to pull himself together. Might. He probably can't. But it's the best chance he's got.

Her eyes go wide and innocent, and she actually raises her hand to her chest in a gesture of disbelief. "I do?"

"Miley," he groans, because she did that on purpose. Now he's trying not to stare at her chest, where her hand still is, fingers tapping restlessly against her bare skin. "You're not playing fair."

She arches an eyebrow at him. "I know you're not complaining about me not playing fair," she drawls, and she sounds really southern right now. That probably shouldn't be making his dick twitch with excitement.

"Do you want me to beg?" he demands, and if that's not a sign that he's desperate, he doesn't know what is.

She strokes her fingers across her jaw and studies him appraisingly. "Wow, I don't think I've ever heard you say that before, Nicky. I think I like it." Out of nowhere, she grins and the mood around them shifts to something lighter, a little bit less charged. Thank god. "I'll just go wait for you in the water, okay?" She spins on her heel, not waiting for an answer, sauntering down towards the water.

He watches her walk away, and each swing of her hips seems like a new round of torture. This is completely unfair. He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants as quickly as he can, because he needs to pay her back for this. If she doesn't want to play fair, neither does he.

"Oh, and Nick?" she calls back over her shoulder as she steps into the surf. "Don't take too long."

She disappears under the water, and he kicks his shoes off before pushing his pants down over his hips. He has to grit his teeth as they scrape against his dick, and he thinks that at least the cold water should be good for something. Of course that could mean a totally different kind of embarrassment, but he's not going to think about that right now. Not while Miley's out there in two tiny scraps of fabric that are completely soaked through to her skin.

And okay, enough's enough. He practically runs to the water, as much as he can anyway. He can see Miley bobbing along the surface of the water, her hair slicked back, skin gleaming in the moonlight. He steps into the surf and holy shit, it's cold. "How are you not freezing?" he demands of her as he wades into the water.

She shrugs nonchalantly, but he thinks that he sees her shivering just a little. "Don't know." A wicked glint comes into her eyes, and she crooks a finger at him. "Come here and I'll warm you up."

He groans before he dunks his head under the water. She is going to be the death of him. But he can't even pretend it won't be worth it. He surfaces, pushing the water off his face, and swims towards where she's treading water. "Hi," he says when he reaches her side. He runs his hand across her arm, and he sees her shiver again. He'd like to believe that it's him and not how goddamn the cold the water is, but she's not that good an actress. "You're cold," he accuses, narrowing his eyes at her. He knew it had to be an act. Knew it.

"What? No," she tries to deny, but her teeth chatter just a little and she gives him a sheepish look and laughs. "How badly do you want to kill me?"

"Well," he says, moving just a little closer. "That depends. I believe you said something about warming me up?" He raises his eyebrows at her, daring her to not make good on her promise.

She nods solemnly. "I think I did say something about that." She closes the space between them, plastering herself against him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. "How's that?"

"That's a good start," he acknowledges, wrapping an arm around her waist as he moves them towards more shallow water. "What else have you got?"

She takes a little nip at his ear, and okay, the cold water's not going to be a problem. She closes her legs around his waist, rubbing teasingly against him, and he lets out a low groan. "Better?" she whispers in his ear, taking the lobe between her teeth.

He wraps her hair around his hand and tugs her head back so he can look her in the eyes. "You're evil, you know that?" he manages. She's rocking her hips against his and he's lucky he can remember words right now, that's how fucking awesome it feels.

She laughs, and he can feel the vibrations through his chest. "You know you're loving every minute of it," she says, and he's certainly not in a position to deny it.

But he's supposed to be trying to beat her at her own game and so he seals his mouth over hers, cutting off any further comments. It's open mouth against open mouth, all lips and tongues and teeth. She makes a little moaning noise against his mouth as it slides wetly across hers, and he swallows the sound. He runs his hands across her stomach and up towards her breasts, and when he cups them through her bra, she stills against him. Shit.

He tears his lips away from hers, panting desperately. "It's okay, right?" If it's not okay, he's going to have to do something drastic. Like shoot himself in the head.

"Yes," she says firmly, pulling his hands tighter against her. "It just felt -- it just felt --" She looks adorably flustered and he thinks he sees her cheeks turn pink.

"Are you blushing right now?" he asks incredulously. Because she's been teasing and tormenting him and loving every damn minute of it.

She doesn't answer, but draws one of his hands around to her back, to the hooks on her bra. She leans in close, so their lips are practically touching. "Do you want to tease me or do you want to take my clothes off?"

As if that's really a question. But he grins and can't stop himself from making one more comment, even as he's pulling the hooks open. "I can't do --" He doesn't get to finish, though, because she's kissing him again and her bra is off and her bare chest is pressed against his, and he knows he makes an embarrassing noise. It's just -- christ, it feels so fucking good. He brings his hand back to her breast, running his thumb across her pebbled nipple and she hisses, grinding her hips harder against his.

And okay, this is awesome, but he wants more. He needs more. He boosts her up higher against his body and presses kisses down across her neck and chest, and she's moaning and has her hands tangled in his hair, clasping him tighter against her skin. His head is buried in her chest and when he finally takes a nipple between his teeth she gasps, and then lets out his name on a low moan.

Hearing her say his name like that makes this totally worth it, no matter what else happens.

She slips a hand between their bodies and reaches for the waistband of his boxers. He digs his hands into her hips. She slides her hand beneath the elastic and around him, and now he's the one moaning her name. "God, Miley," he pants, and he can't even think. All he can feel is her hand warm against his skin, stroking him just the right way, and he grits his teeth and tries to hold himself together, because it's too fucking much and it's all going to be over way too fast.

Her hand keeps moving with the same steady pressure, and she dips her head to suck on the pulse point on his neck. He's pretty sure she's leaving a mark that's going to be impossible to explain, but he can't bring himself to care, not when she's moving her hand just a little bit harder, a little bit faster, and then he's coming against her hand, practically whimpering her name.

Holy fucking shit is all he can think. Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He looks down at Miley and she's staring at him like she's never seen him before, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He tries to think of something, anything, to say, but all he can get out is her name. He can't tell her what that felt like. But maybe he can make her feel the same way. He hopes he can make her feel the same way.

He kisses her again, stroking his tongue against hers. He can still taste the champagne. He shifts her against his body, slides his hand along her thigh, and she stiffens just a little in his arms.

"Miles?" he asks, rubbing her back gently. He's trying not to panic, because shit, what did he do wrong? He doesn't want to have done anything wrong.

There's a blush high on her cheeks, and she isn't quite looking at him.

He shakes his head. "Miley, I want you." He really, really wants her. He kisses her then, not waiting for her to answer. He touches her with slow strokes of his hands against her skin, lingering caresses. He waits for her to relax, drawing the response out of her, inch by inch, till her eyes are dark and she's moaning his name.

He slides his hand along her thigh again, running his fingers just under the edge of her underwear. "Okay?" he breathes against her lips.

She kisses him instead of answering. But he guesses that's an answer itself.

So, okay. He can do this. Even if he's totally worried that he can't. He holds her tighter in his arms, and slides his fingers against her. And fuck. It's hot and it's wet and he wants to touch her everywhere all at once. He pulls his lips away from hers, panting, and Miley buries her head in the space between his neck and shoulder. He runs his fingers through her folds and listens to her breathing, trying to tell what he's doing right. When she lets out a low moan, he gives a mental cheer and does it again.

"Nick," Miley gasps, grinding her hips against his.

"Is that good?" he pants a little desperately. It has to be. She wouldn't be doing that if it wasn't good, right?

She nods frantically against his neck, pressing down against his hand. "God," she says, and her voice is really breathy and higher than normal. He's going to take all that as a good sign.

He thumbs her clit and he can feel a tremor go through her body. She tightens her legs around his waist and kisses him again, kisses him with every ounce of her. She's almost vibrating against him, and he feels like he's trying to hold a live wire in his arms. He can't keep up with her, he just tries to hold on for dear life, and then she's breaking apart, tipping her head back and moaning his name. Her skin's all flushed and she's trembling, and that was the greatest thing he's ever seen. Ever done.

Jesus Christ.

Miley slowly comes back to herself, and he knows he's staring at her like she was staring at him before. Just -- that was incredible. He didn't know it could be like that. He wants to do it again and again.

But maybe somewhere warmer. Now that the buzz is staring to wear off, Nick realizes just how cold he is. And the shaking Miley's doing is probably more about the cold water than what she's feeling. He cocks his head towards the beach. "You ready to go back?"

"Yes," Miley nods, teeth chattering a little.

"Oh, thank god," he mutters, and they untangle themselves from each other and make their way back to the shore.

They stumble out of the water, legs shaking and shivering from the cold. That was maybe the best thing he's ever done in his life, Nick thinks, but he really wishes they would have maybe planned ahead. Had towels at least. He looks down at Miley, who's trying to squeeze water out of her hair. But then maybe it wouldn't have happened at all, and he wouldn't trade what just happened for anything.

Miley catches him looking at her and gives him a rueful smile. "So I'm not so good with the planning," she says. "That's what you're for anyway."

He has to laugh at that. She does have a point. "I didn't think I had much choice in the matter here, Miles."

"There are always choices, Nick," she says, and the way she's looking at him, Nick feels like what comes out of his mouth next is going to be the most important thing he'll ever say.

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. "Not when it comes to you and me." It's maybe the truest thing he's ever said. When it comes to Miley, he hasn't had a choice since the day he met her. He's tried to make them, yeah, but they never work out, and in the end, it always comes back to her. He thinks he finally understands that it always will.

"Yeah?" Miley asks, trying to mask the hope in her voice.

"Yeah," he nods, smiling down at her. He feels lighter for saying it. Maybe things will work out, maybe they won't, but he needed to say it, and he needed her to hear it.

Miley's teeth start to chatter, and he tries to focus. Cold. Clothes. "You need to get dressed," he says, leaning over to pick up her dress and tossing it to her. He pulls his pants on, making a face as they stick to his still wet skin. He really, really wishes they had towels.

She laughs weakly as she puts it on. "I bet you never thought you'd say that to a girl." She pulls her wet hair over her shoulder and turns her back to him. "Zip me up, please?"

Nick tugs the zipper up, pressing a kiss to her shoulder when he's done. She's still shivering. He picks up his shirt and jacket from the sand, and drapes the jacket around her shoulders. "Better?" he asks, as he puts his shirt back on.

Miley nods, working her arms through the sleeves. She stretches up on her toes and kisses him gently on the cheek. "Thank you."

He raises his eyebrows at her. "For the jacket?"

She shakes her head, looking at him with dark, serious eyes. "For everything." She lets the words hang between them. He thinks he understands what she means.

Something in his pocket vibrates and he starts in surprise. He forgot he even had his phone with him. He digs it out of his pocket and sees that he has twenty missed messages. Shit. He looks at Miley. "Do you have your phone with you?"

"Do you see pockets in this dress?" she asks, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Cute, real cute," he mutters, starting to scroll through the messages. Most of them are from Joe and they all seem to be asking where the hell he is.

"What's wrong?" She scoots closer so that she can look at the phone with him. "Shit."

"My thoughts exactly," Nick agrees, opening a new text to Joe. He quickly punches a message in, on the beach with miley, why, and hits send. He looks down at Miley. "I guess we'll see."

Miley chews on her lip, looking worried. "They wouldn't rat us out. Right?" She shakes her head. "They wouldn't. It's Joe and Demi."

The phone vibrates in his hand, and Nick flips it open, scanning the text. stay there. we're coming too. Okay, then. He looks at Miley, who's reading over his shoulder. "Looks like we're going to have company."

She raises her eyes to his. "Are you okay with that?"

It's not like he can pretend not to understand her. It would take a blind person not to have some inkling of what just happened between them. Their clothes are wrinkled, their hair is wet, and he's almost positive he's got a giant hickey on his neck. He'll have to thank Miley for that later. And their friends aren't blind. But then, he's never meant to hide from them. Just the rest of the world.

Nick pulls her into his arms, tilting her chin up so he can look her in the eyes. "Yes," he says firmly. He opens his mouth to say more, to tell her that they need to figure out what's going on between them, but he catches sight of Demi running down the beach, Joe close at her heels. He thinks Joe is stumbling over his feet more than normal. "That was fast," he grumbles.

Miley looks confused. "What?" She turns her head and says, "Oh."

"Yeah," he agrees. He tips her chin back up towards him. "To be continued?"

She nods and gives him a small, nervous smile. He likes that he still can make her nervous. It makes the fact that she can still make his palms sweat less lame. "To be continued."

"Hey, Dem, look," Joe yells loudly, as he runs towards him. "It's my missing brother. You know, the one that was taking his best man duties so seriously. I wonder what happened to him."

It's good that he's not sharing a room with Joe on this trip, Nick thinks. Otherwise he might smother him in his sleep. He looks down at Miley, and she's laughing pretty hard. He tickles her sides and she squirms out of his arms. "Shouldn't you be on my side?" he demands, trying to pout at her.

Miley can't stop laughing. "I am," she gasps between laughs. "But not when you look like that!"

Demi skids to a stop in front of them. "Nick, what is that thing on your face?" She gives a dramatic shudder. "I think I'm scared."

Joe finally catches up and immediately lunges for Demi. She shrieks and tries to hide behind Miley, but Joe snares her and wraps his arm around her neck. Joe looks at Nick and makes a face. "What is that?" Joe shakes his head. "Haven't the acting classes taught you anything?"

"With friends like you," Nick mutters, frowning at all of them.

Miley reaches up to pinch his cheek. "Aw, see that's better. That's the Nick we know and love."

Demi and Joe start laughing, like it's the funniest thing they've ever heard and Nick narrows his eyes at them. He's willing to bet that they had a lot more champagne after he and Miley left. He shrugs. Their problem, not his. "Where is everyone else?" he asks, trying desperately to change the subject.

Demi waves her hand in the direction they came from. "Back there, somewhere." She elbows Joe in the side. "Someone wanted to race."

"That was not my idea, Demetria," Joe contests hotly. "Which one of us started running first?"

"Who was trying to push me into the ocean?" Demi retorts, and Nick just shakes his head. He wonders if his relationship with Miley is as hard for other to people to figure out as Joe and Demi's is.

He looks down the beach and sees Nicole and Chelsea skipping towards them arm in arm. David and Selena aren't far behind, walking shoulder to shoulder, sort of deliberately touching and not touching all at the same time. He really wants to know what's going on between them.

Joe punches him in the arm.

Nick blinks and hits him back. "What the hell was that for?"

Joe shrugs. "I had to get your attention somehow."

"And hitting me seemed like the best way to do that?" Nick asks, rolling his eyes at his brother. Actually, that sounds about right. He looks past Joe, and sees Demi and Miley's heads huddled together. Miley's waving her arms wildly in the air, the too long sleeves of his jacket flapping over her hands. He grins. She's just really adorable sometimes.

Joe follows his gaze to the girls and lets out a heavy sigh. "Man, you have got to pull it together."

Nick looks back at Joe. "What?"

"Miley," Joe says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Just be careful, okay?"

"I'm always careful," Nick says slowly, trying to figure out exactly what Joe's talking about.

Joe shakes his head. "Not with her." He looks back at the girls, and something that might be a wistful look is on his face. "I get it, but...be careful." He shakes his head and punches Nick in the arm again. "Got it?"

Nick nods. "Got it." He wonders how much of that was about Joe and Demi, and how much of it was about him and Miley. And he wants to know how much champagne Joe had to make him actually say it. "Look, thanks for covering for us before."

"Wait, you thought I covered for you?" Joe cracks up laughing at Nick's suddenly panicked expression. "No biggie." He wiggles his eyebrows at Nick. "Next time you sneak off for a booty call give me some warning, though. My genius cover stories take time, Nicholas."

"I'll be sure to do that," Nick says dryly.

"Be sure to do what?" Demi demands, jumping on Joe's back from behind. Joe starts to collapse the ground and Demi hits him in the shoulder. "Don't drop me, you loser!"

Joe promptly drops to his knees in the sand and Demi shrieks with laughter as she tumbles down on top of him, pummeling him with her fists.

"Are we torturing Joe?" Chelsea says with glee, as she and Nicole finally reach them. "Excellent!"

"Hey!" Joe protests, trying to push Demi off him. "A little help here, Nick?"

Nick just raises an eyebrow at him. "I make it a point never to stand between you and girls, Joe."

Chelsea gives him a high five. "I knew I liked you for a reason." She sinks down onto the sand with Demi, and starts helping Demi tickle Joe mercilessly.

Nicole gives Nick an apologetic look. "There was a lot of champagne at the reception."

"As if I need champagne to abuse Joe," Chelsea scoffs. She pulls on Nicole's hand. "Get your cute butt down here and help!"

"And then there's that," Nicole laughs. She kneels next to Chelsea and joins in.

Joe's writhing about in the sand like there are ants in his pants, and Nick has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He thinks it's the first time he's ever seen Joe not enjoy being surrounded by three beautiful girls. Maybe now Joe won't tease him so much about the girls that used to hold him down on the playground to make him sing. That had never as funny as Joe thought.

"Henrie!" Joe yells out desperately. "Get your ass over here, man!"

David and Selena walk up to the group and David laughs at Joe's predicament. "You're complaining about being the center of three girls' attention?" David shakes his head. "Weak, Jonas."

"Selena!" Demi squeals, catching sight of her best friend. She tugs on Selena's hand. "Come help! Boys against girls, you know you want to!"

"Demi," Selena groans, but she lets herself be pulled down onto the sand. She snags David's hand on her way down and brings him with her. David falls practically on top of Selena, and she lets out a long laugh as she tries to push him off her. He starts tickling her, and suddenly it really is boys versus girls.

Nick looks at Miley, who's watching the whole thing with a wide smile and laughter in her eyes. Their eyes catch and lock. He smiles foolishly at her, and she smiles back. It's his smile, he thinks. Then Demi is calling her name and Miley joins the rest of the girls in torturing Joe, and Nick gives in and laughs.

No matter what, they'll always have tonight. He'll always have her smile. It's more than he ever thought he'd have.

Miley grabs his hand and pulls him down onto the sand with her, pulls him into the circle of their friends. Nick wraps his arms around her and tries to make it last.