Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana. If I did...I would definitely throw in a Lilly/Miley kiss, js. ;)
A/N: This fanfic is dedicated to the sweetest, smartest, most beautiful girl I know, who also happens my very best friend, Jey (JeyDoesntCare). :D And as if I need another reason to dedicate something to her, today is her sixteenth birthday! :3 (Yikes, I'm old. :P) I've been working all month on this, and I really hope it's worthy enough to be associated with her. If not, feel free to punish me in whatever way I deserve, because the best girl on earth deserves the best fanfic on earth, in my opinion. x)
Also, second disclaimer: this fanfic in no way reflects any lesbian feelings I may have for Jey. xD Even though, in my opinion, we'd totally make a better couple than Liley...or even Brittana. ;)
Bicurious For You
"He's not coming," she wailed.
Maybe not, but I'll tell you what was. Shots. And glass after tiny glass, Lilly downed them.
Needless to say, I was getting worried. Okay, more like FREAKING OUT. I didn't bring Lilly here to get drunk! I brought her to dance and mingle with celebrities and have fun. So she could get her mind off things.
But she'd headed straight for the bar.
"Don't you think you've had enough?" I asked gently as Lilly waved the bartender over again for another round.
She turned and stared at me miserably. "This is the second time," she said as if she hadn't heard my question. "I have a bad, bad, bad, bad, bad boyfriend." Her lower lip trembled dangerously.
"Oh, don't say that," I protested, biting my own lip. "Oliver loves you. He'd be here if he could. But you both agreed he should take the opportunity to go on tour, and—"
"I NEVER WANTED HIM TO LEAVE ME!" Lilly burst out sobbing.
My heart caught in my throat. "Oh, Lilly, I know, I know...," I murmured, leaning over and squeezing her up against me in a tight hug. Lilly's arms squeezed back, her short purple hair tickling me as she buried her face in my neck. We were so close that I could smell the fruity scent of her shampoo even though she was wearing a wig. Her shoulders were shaking, but I rubbed her back and whispered soothingly into her ear to calm her down.
"I didn't know you two were dating now," an obnoxious, nasally voice assaulted me.
I whipped my head up to find Traci snickering at our public display of affection. My mouth twisted into a grimace, and I opened it to tell her off, but Lilly was pulling away from me...laughing.
"You wishhh you had a girlfriend as pretty as my Hannah Banana," she giggled, slurring her words, as she patted my face gently.
Traci just gave us a look of disgust and walked away without another word.
I turned back to Lilly and burst into giggles as well—at least until I realized she hadn't moved her hand yet.
"Um, you can stop petting my cheek now," I said awkwardly.
"But your skin is so, so soft!" she protested. "Just like a baby's butt! It's fun to touch." She grinned widely; and then suddenly both of her hands were on my face, caressing it softly with her fingers.
I flushed with embarrassment. "Lilly, this really isn't appropriate," I mumbled, trying to pry her away by her wrists without hurting her in the process.
Lilly blinked up at me, her eyes wide with innocence and a sweet smile on her face. "Whyyy...not?"
I shook my head. "For one, we're in public—"
"Wanna go someplace private, then?" she asked, throwing a seductive wink my way.
My mouth dropped open in shock, and she started giggling like a spazz again.
"God, you've had too much to drink," I groaned.
"Oooh, that's a GREAT idea!" Lilly exclaimed.
"BARTENDER! Over heeere! HIT ME AGAIN!" she called out like a crazy woman.
"LILLY, NO!" I shouted, too panicked to notice I had let her name slip. But my outburst was to no avail, as a guy whose name tag read Rich came over and supplied my drunk ass best friend with some MORE alcohol.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Lilly sang in delight.
I shot Rich a death glare.
Lilly's hand reached for the glass and, acting quickly, I snatched it up before she had the chance. It felt as if the liquid was burning my throat as I tilted my head back and gulped it down, and I let out a few sputtering coughs.
"Do it again, Miley!" she clapped joyfully. "Don't you just love that buzz?"
"My name is Hannah," I hissed, just in case anyone had happened to overhear. "And it's a lucky thing these drinks are free, or else they'd be coming out of your savings."
"You're free," Lilly shot back with a giggle.
I narrowed my eyes at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nooothing," she kept on giggling, purposely avoiding my gaze this time.
I shook my head. Why would I ever be expecting a drunk person to know what the hell she was talking about, anyways? There would certainly be no rational answers tonight.
Or behavior, for that matter.
"Miley, Miley!" Lilly burst out excitedly.
I glared at her, and her face screwed up in thought.
"Hannah?" she tried again.
"Let's dance!" she squealed.
An image of Lilly shaking her stuff on tabletops and flashing everyone at the club immediately filled my mind. After all, that's what drunk people do, right?
"Oh, no," I said firmly. "No, no, no, I am not letting you make fools of us both in public!"
"Public, shmublic. Why is everything PUBLIC with you?" Lilly whined.
When I didn't bother to dignify that ridiculously stupid question with a response, she changed her approach.
"Come onnn," she begged me. "It'll be fuuuun!"
"I highly doubt that."
"Come on...Hannah," she insisted, beginning to play with my fake blonde hair (geez, why was she such a touchy-feely drunk?). "You know you want toooo."
"I don't, seriously," I snapped, growing annoyed with her persistence.
"Well then why did you bring me here?" she pouted. "Clubs are for dancing. DANCINGGG."
"Well, Lola, we could've been dancing if you hadn't decided to take a pit stop at the BAR!"
"I was sad," she explained, as if she honestly thought I had had no idea.
"Yes, and that's why I brought you here. To DANCE. But you decided you wanted to drink all the alcohol in sight, and now I'm not going to dance with you!" I fumed.
"Why you gotta be so"—the question started out as a question and turned into a Taylor Swift song—"meeean?"
I slapped a hand to my forehead. "Hate to break it to you, but this isn't karaoke."
"OH MY GOSH, I HAVE A GREAT IDEA!" Lilly burst out, as if what she had to say was the most awesome thing since Harry Potter.
"This is not a karaoke bar!" I reiterated in frustration.
"Who said anything about karaoke?" she asked me, looking completely bewildered. "I'm talking about a game!" Her face split back into a huge grin.
"What game?" I inquired tentatively. Truth or Dare? Strip Poker? 7 Minutes in Heaven? Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off?
Wait, that last one was a song. Crap, how much alcohol was in that glass I stole from Lilly? My tolerance is very poor...
"FMK!" she informed me happily, breaking my train of thought.
"Oh." I breathed out a sigh of relief. "That's a nice, safe game."
"There's nothing safe about killing people!" Lilly shrieked, covering her mouth in horror.
"Honey," I said slowly, "nobody is really getting killed. IT'S A GAME."
"Ohhhhhhh!" She smiled broadly. "Good! I don't want any hotties to die. It would be a tragedy." She put a hand to her forehead all dramatically.
"Mmhmm," I went along nonchalantly.
"Okay, but I wanna go first, Iwannagofirst!" she begged me.
"Please. Be my guest."
"Okayyy!" Lilly squealed. "Chace Crawford, Ashton Kutcher, and Mitchel Musso."
"Fuck Mitchel...marry Ashton, and kill Chace," I decided. "Ashton is cute and funny, and Chace is too pretty."
She seemed to approve of this decision and moved on to the next one. "Jesse, Oliver, me."
I almost choked on my own spit. "What?"
"You heard meee!" she giggled.
"OH MY GOSH, THAT'S SO AWKWARD," I laughed.
She kept giggling and eyed me with a look of expectance.
"Okay, well, I'm killing Oliver because he made you cry, so..." My voice trailed off, and it took me a moment to summon up enough courage to speak again. "Fuck you, marry Jesse (because I want him for life), and kill Oliver." I subconsciously held my breath.
"HAHAHA. HI, FUCK BUDDY!" Lilly exclaimed so loudly that it silenced everyone else sitting at the bar.
It felt like my face had been set on fire, which was spreading all the way down my neck and up to my ears. "Lilly!" I hissed in mortification.
"Whaaat?" she giggled innocently. "We're all cool here!" Smiling, she turned and waved at the other people around us.
I buried my face in my hands and groaned. "Lilly."
"Okay, okay, your turn!" she informed me.
"Umm...Harry, Ron, Hermione," I said lamely.
"Fuck Hermione, marry Harry, kill Ron."
Wow. I looked up at her in surprise.
"Okay..." I decided to get more personal, just like she had. "Me, Oliver, Jesse."
"Fuck Oliver, marry Jesse, kill you."
My mouth dropped open. "What? How could you kill me, bitch?" I laughed.
"Sorry, I want to fuck Oliver more," she shrugged.
"Oh, please, I'm sure you do that all the time," I groaned.
Lilly stuck her tongue out at me.
"Anyways, why don't you just marry him since you 'wub him so much'?" I teased, imitating the baby talk she used on him on a daily basis. "Then you can still be my fuck buddy."
"He doesn't deserve to marry me right now," she sniffed.
I winced and tried to change the subject before she burst into tears again. "Fine. But still. You'd choose my boyfriend over me?"
She immediately grinned. "Well, I wouldn't mind waking up to his face every morning, if ya know what I mean."
I glared at her and growled, "Fuck you."
"Oh my gosh, hey, I know how we can still do that!" she squealed excitedly. "Wanna know how?"
I started giggling again. "Sure."
"I married Harry Potter. So he can switch places with you, and then you, me, and Oliver can have a threesome."
I made a bunch of gagging noises. "But I don't want him," I protested.
She shrugged. "Take it or leave it."
I gave a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Whatever makes you happy, darling."
"You are such a good lover," Lilly gushed. "Next time you can tie me up. I promise."
"Oh, you really know what turns me on."
"That's why we're soul mates!" She clapped all happily, and it reminded me of a baby sea lion.
God, did she honestly know how fucking cute she was?
I didn't know whether it was the joking, the tiny bit of alcohol I'd consumed, or the sense of naughtiness that made the thought so tempting—but Lilly's lips were suddenly beckoning me, enticing my curiosity, begging me to try it just once to see what it was like—and I couldn't help asking the question that was tugging at the corners of my mind.
"Lilly, um... Do you think it would be weird if we, um...kissed? Like, for real?"
As soon as the words left my mouth, I flushed with embarrassment.
But Lilly just smiled at me, completely unabashed. "No. It's just a little smoochy woochy. You're curious for me," she giggled to the tune of I Kissed a Girl. "But really. That's normal." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "It's not like we're having sex or anything."
The choking sensation I had felt earlier returned. It sure was a good thing I had nothing to choke on, or I might've died by the time the night ended.
Nevertheless, I played along willingly. "No, I'm not ready to fuck you yet," I smirked.
"I don't think I could fuck a girl," she said, suddenly in serious mode.
"Me either," I chuckled.
"It'd be too weird."
"But kissing is okay...," I prodded.
"Kissing...would be fun...," she murmured as she began leaning in towards me.
For a moment, I wondered where to put my hands—a question I'd never once had to ask myself before. Normally they seemed to find their place automatically, but right now they just felt like useless, awkward extensions of my body. I mean, she had a wig on, so I couldn't bury them in her hair, and she wasn't a guy, so her...chest was out of the question, too.
After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only about two seconds, I settled for her face, my fingertips resting gently on her cheeks. And let me just tell you, they were way softer than any guy's. Heck, no wonder drunk Lilly had been so taken with touching my face, if mine was anything like this.
At first, that's how the kiss felt, too—soft, gentle...innocent. But it seemed like every second that it lasted made me feel more daring, more of a badass than I ever had before. And then suddenly, without even thinking about what I was doing, I had begun pushing my tongue inside of her mouth, and Lilly wasn't resisting, not even a little bit. In fact, she was responding rather...rather nicely, and my hands seemed to be finding their own way down her body apart from my conscious instruction.
Her taste was like a mixture of cherry lip gloss and tequila, and oddly enough I didn't mind (even though I wasn't a big fan of the flavor of alcohol). To me, it was the taste of rebellion, and I loved it. And I couldn't get enough.
Not moments ago, we had both agreed that fucking each other would be too weird. But now we were pressed up against each other, our mouths were practically having sex, and it felt thrilling—wrong, but thrilling—and I couldn't help getting turned on. And for a split second I considered slipping a hand up her shirt.
But we were in public.
And I was Hannah Montana.
I broke the connection, feeling totally breathless, but left our lips a few centimeters apart as I whispered. "Lilly..."
"No," she murmured in an urgent tone. I drew in a sharp breath as one of her hands wandered up my shirt and over my breast. As her fingers came into contact, Lilly gave it a gentle but firm squeeze, and I let out a tiny cry of surprise.
My lips trembled as she attacked them full force with her own. Our tongues collided sloppily, over and over, never satisfied and always craving more...until finally I let go of hers again. I moved my mouth down a little, nibbling and sucking gently on her lower lip, but Lilly didn't want to relinquish her control so easily.
She broke free of my mouth and attached hers to my neck. Slowly, she worked it over with both her lips and tongue—hopefully not breaking any blood vessels along the way (although that was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment). Lilly kept going farther and farther down, until it became evident that choosing to wear such a low cut top today had been either a very bad or a very good idea.
She spattered the tops of my breasts with light kisses before putting her focus on one at a time. I dug my nails in her back as she started sucking on me, fondling with her hands all the while. I wanted her so badly now that I almost couldn't handle it, the desire burned so strongly within me. I moaned quietly, and she shifted to the other side. Her lips brushed against the edge of the fabric I had on, and she mumbled into my skin, "Can I rip your clothes off? I have reeeally strong teeth..."
"God, Lilly, let's go," I said fervently.
"No, I meant here," she clarified. "Right now."
My eyes widened in horror. "No!" I burst out frantically.
"Because people can—"
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"
We both jumped at the sudden noise and turned to see who was making such a commotion. When my eyes came into focus with the messy dark hair and pretty brown eyes that were flashing with anger, my heart leapt into my throat.
"OOOLLLIIIVVVEEERRR!" Lilly shrieked happily, abandoning her bar stool and running into his arms without a backwards glance at me. "You came home for my birthday!"
"Of course I did," he retorted in an extremely offended tone of voice, although he rubbed her back lovingly. "What kind of boyfriend do you think I am?" Over her shoulder, he glared at me like I was some kind of criminal.
A bad, bad, bad, bad one, I thought spitefully.
"I was going to surprise you," he explained as she pulled away from the hug, "but I came all this way just to find you in the middle of sucking Miley's boobs off! I repeat, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?"
"You said hell before," Lilly giggled.
He stared at her blankly. "What?"
"You said hell, and then you said fuck," she pointed out in amusement. "So you weren't repeating yourselfff."
"Oh. My. God." His gaze turned back to me, and he started spitting out accusations at once. "You got her drunk? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT? You knew full well I was coming!"
"She got her own damn self drunk, Oliver!" I yelled back. "It's not my fault you let her be distraught until you revealed the 'big surprise'! She fucking LOST IT because she thought you weren't coming, and I shouldn't have had to deal with that!"
"Right, so you just decided to throw yourself at her instead," he spat.
"Excuse me?" I shouted, utterly outraged with him. "I wasn't the one with my tongue all over her boobs, now was I? She wanted to make out with me. GET OVER IT."
"Ohhh, that was BEYOND making out," he snapped, "and if you had any hint of self-respect, you'd—"
"I did," Lilly cut in, giggling once more.
He blinked at her confusedly. "What?"
"I did want to do bad things to Miley," she whispered seriously, as if confessing some huge sin. "She's fucking sexy."
All the emotion drained from Oliver's face; it was like some part of him had died upon hearing that one drunken statement. "Is this—is this because I said we should wait to have sex?" he asked so softly and sadly that I could barely hear him.
They hadn't had sex yet? I would've laughed if the mood wasn't so serious around this place.
But we never got to hear Lilly's response, because at that moment she doubled over and puked.
All over Oliver's shoes.
I couldn't take my eyes off the stupid photo. I hadn't even heard the fucking paparazzi that took it or seen a flash go off. And a flash must have gone off, because it was very dark in that club. Maybe there was a God, and homosexual behavior did anger Him, and this was His way of punishing me for fooling around with my best friend last night.
"Well played, God," I muttered as the headline glared up at me like a continuous slap in the face.
SHE Could Be The One?: Hannah Montana spotted with local girl Lila Lumpnagle in downtown Malibu.
"They spelled my name wrong!" a very Lilly-like voice cried out in offense.
My head shot up in surprise to find Lilly just stepping inside my room and closing the door behind her, tabloid in hand.
"Lilly!" I exclaimed, feeling a slight rush of relief at the fact that I wasn't alone in this shame. She came over and sat down beside me on the bed. "It just looks so much worse than it felt last night, doesn't it?" I said sadly.
"Oh, it felt great last night," she agreed. "It's the hangovers that ruin everything. This is why I never get drunk." She pressed a hand to her forehead and winced. "Damn headache."
"Yeah, and don't forget this." I waved the paper in her face. "My dad hasn't seen it yet, has he?" I asked fearfully.
"I doubt it. He'll probably come storming in here as soon as he does and demand I leave your house," Lilly shrugged. How she could stay so nonchalant about this was beyond me.
"And Oliver?" I questioned. "Is he still angry at me?"
"Oh no, he's way past that."
Somehow I didn't think that was a good thing.
"What do you mean exactly?"
"I mean he's now blaming himself for not being able to satisfy my needs, and he's very depressed about it."
"Oh. Wonderful," I muttered as yet another bag of bricks hit me in the stomach.
"What's wrong?" I stared at her in disbelief. "Nobody's going to let their kids listen to Hannah Montana because they think she's some kind of slutty lesbian, you'll have to move after my dad hears about it, AND I destroyed Oliver's self-confidence. I mean, really, what isn't wrong?" I laughed bitterly.
"Miley...," Lilly said quietly, tracing the pattern on my comforter with her finger and not looking me in the eyes.
"Did you really want to kiss me?"
I stared at her like she was nuts.
"I'm sorry, but last night is kind of a crazy blur to me," she explained.
"That's the whole point, Lilly," I grumbled in exasperation. "We were intoxicated, so it doesn't matter. It was just one really big, stupid ass mistake."
"It does matter," she insisted, her frustration growing. "Did you really want to kiss me, or did you just feel like experimenting with a girl?"
I felt myself starting to blush and turned away so she couldn't see. "Why the hell do you care, Lilly?" I muttered.
She placed one finger under my chin and pulled my face back towards hers to glare at me. "God, Miley! I just want to know, okay? And I can handle whatever the hell your answer is!"
She was breathing hard, and I watched her chest rise and fall as I pondered my answer.
"Yes," I said finally. "Yes, I wanted to kiss you."
That was all it took for her to close the gap between us. She lifted my head up about an inch or so, and our lips met like they were old friends. Her kiss was soft and tender, and the fact that we were both completely sober this time made it a million times better in my opinion.
She pulled away after a few moments, and I stared deep into her blue eyes. "Then it wasn't a mistake," she whispered, running her finger across my lips.
"But what about—"
Lilly shushed me. "That's what doesn't matter. Everything will work itself out, Miley. Who cares what some stupid paparazzi wrote about us? Not me."
"But what about Oliver?" I worried aloud. "We can't do this to him, Lilly."
"Oliver doesn't have to know...at least not right now."
And for once, I decided to let it go.
For once, as Lilly laid down next to me on the mattress, I decided to let loose a little and not give a fuck about other people's prejudices. Because you shouldn't regret anything that makes you happy.
And for me, that was Lilly Truscott.
A/N: I really didn't know how to end this, so I apologize for the piece of shit that you just read.
Oh, and only after I started writing this did I realize it was scarily similar to the I Kissed a Girl song. xD I assure you, this was never the way I planned, not my intention~ Ahem. Bad joke. ;D So yeah, I know it wasn't a very original idea and all, but let me know what you thought nonetheless please. :)