fic: the eye of the beholder - mild Kacy
Title: The Eye of the Beholder
Fandom: JONAS
Warning: One cuss word
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Pairing: Mildly pre-Kevin/Macy, Kevin&Macy friendship
Summary: A very ticked off Macy and an adorably clueless Kevin. Macy does not like to be called cute.
He's not sure what happened, one minute he's saying he thought her tennis outfit was cute, the next there's a loud screeching filling the air; and it's issuing from little Macy Misa's mouth.
"CUTE!?! Cute!?!" The words fall out of her mouth in jumbled mess as she lets out her pent up frustration on the unsuspecting Lucas boy, "Maybe I don't want to be 'cute.' Maybe I want to be sexy, or hot. Did you ever think of that? I don't want to be 'cute' or 'adorable' or 'like a little puppy' all the time." She was pacing in front of him, eyes narrowed, glaring into space and hands twirling around her head in rough circles as he stands in stunned silence. "Not that I want to be sexually objectified, but it'd be nice to get a wolf whistle every once in a while, or a flirty smile, a suggestive comment; something other than 'Oh look, its little Macy, ain't she cute?'" The word is spit out like it's dirty as she abruptly turns to him, eyes flashing and breaths coming in shallow puffs. "It's not like I'm bad looking. I'm an athlete! Have you seen my ass? Cause let me tell you, mister, its way better than Charlotte Hale's and she's gotten cat called in hall." Kevin's mind froze as the curse left the brunette's lips, trying to grasp how Macy would even have knowledge of such a word; Jason Smith was on the hockey team, and he wasn't exactly known for censoring his language. Jocks in general weren't known for watching their tongues.
With a kind of jolt, a single piece of information made its way to the front of his mind, clicking together with memories of tackled hugs and the assortment of uniforms the guitarist had seen her in: Horace Mantis High School didn't have a girl's football or girl's hockey team. Green eyes widened as he looked at the still ranting brunette before him. Macy couldn’t be… could she?
He took her in, eyes scanning over sneaker clad feet and up well defined feminine legs; Nick teased Joe on his "womanly lower limbs" though, so that was no guarantee. There was the skirt at encased her lower body, while simultaneously hiding from his view any curves she (or he) may or may not posses. Flashes of a seven year old Stella wrestling a grumpy Nick into her old dresses so he could play "model" to her "stylist" comes to mind and the corner of his lips twitch upward slightly. He's pretty sure he still has a few pictures somewhere. His eyes slowly move up, taking in the formless button up and… the white material definitely didn't hide the swell of a well formed chest beneath its cover. There's a strange feeling of relief as he absorbs this confirmation, watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest in mild distraction.
"Kevin?"
His eyes jerk upward to stare at the girl before him, no longer pacing the hall and staring him and from her expression, that's not the first time she's called his name. He can feel his cheeks heat up as he realizes he missed what she was saying; Stella usually hit him if he didn't pay attention when she thought she was saying something important. He opens his mouth to apologize but the words never make it past his lips; her face has split into a smile so big he half wonders if it hurts and then she's launching herself at him, arms going around his torso and dark hair just brushing his chin. Defiantly a girl, he thinks absently as she presses her small frame against him and his own arms move upward of their own accord to return her embrace.
He feels oddly disappointed as she pulls away, giving him another bright smile and a wave accompanied by a breathy "bye, Kevin" before she's skipping down the hall and off to whatever practice she has that day.
He watches with an absented minded fascination as the pleated blue tartan material bounces around her thighs, giving peeks and glimpses at smooth skin and wonders what he did to make her so happy and how he could do it again; hugs from Macy were so much better without the protective padding.
Fandom: JONAS
Warning: One cuss word
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Pairing: Mildly pre-Kevin/Macy, Kevin&Macy friendship
Summary: A very ticked off Macy and an adorably clueless Kevin. Macy does not like to be called cute.
He's not sure what happened, one minute he's saying he thought her tennis outfit was cute, the next there's a loud screeching filling the air; and it's issuing from little Macy Misa's mouth.
"CUTE!?! Cute!?!" The words fall out of her mouth in jumbled mess as she lets out her pent up frustration on the unsuspecting Lucas boy, "Maybe I don't want to be 'cute.' Maybe I want to be sexy, or hot. Did you ever think of that? I don't want to be 'cute' or 'adorable' or 'like a little puppy' all the time." She was pacing in front of him, eyes narrowed, glaring into space and hands twirling around her head in rough circles as he stands in stunned silence. "Not that I want to be sexually objectified, but it'd be nice to get a wolf whistle every once in a while, or a flirty smile, a suggestive comment; something other than 'Oh look, its little Macy, ain't she cute?'" The word is spit out like it's dirty as she abruptly turns to him, eyes flashing and breaths coming in shallow puffs. "It's not like I'm bad looking. I'm an athlete! Have you seen my ass? Cause let me tell you, mister, its way better than Charlotte Hale's and she's gotten cat called in hall." Kevin's mind froze as the curse left the brunette's lips, trying to grasp how Macy would even have knowledge of such a word; Jason Smith was on the hockey team, and he wasn't exactly known for censoring his language. Jocks in general weren't known for watching their tongues.
With a kind of jolt, a single piece of information made its way to the front of his mind, clicking together with memories of tackled hugs and the assortment of uniforms the guitarist had seen her in: Horace Mantis High School didn't have a girl's football or girl's hockey team. Green eyes widened as he looked at the still ranting brunette before him. Macy couldn’t be… could she?
He took her in, eyes scanning over sneaker clad feet and up well defined feminine legs; Nick teased Joe on his "womanly lower limbs" though, so that was no guarantee. There was the skirt at encased her lower body, while simultaneously hiding from his view any curves she (or he) may or may not posses. Flashes of a seven year old Stella wrestling a grumpy Nick into her old dresses so he could play "model" to her "stylist" comes to mind and the corner of his lips twitch upward slightly. He's pretty sure he still has a few pictures somewhere. His eyes slowly move up, taking in the formless button up and… the white material definitely didn't hide the swell of a well formed chest beneath its cover. There's a strange feeling of relief as he absorbs this confirmation, watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest in mild distraction.
"Kevin?"
His eyes jerk upward to stare at the girl before him, no longer pacing the hall and staring him and from her expression, that's not the first time she's called his name. He can feel his cheeks heat up as he realizes he missed what she was saying; Stella usually hit him if he didn't pay attention when she thought she was saying something important. He opens his mouth to apologize but the words never make it past his lips; her face has split into a smile so big he half wonders if it hurts and then she's launching herself at him, arms going around his torso and dark hair just brushing his chin. Defiantly a girl, he thinks absently as she presses her small frame against him and his own arms move upward of their own accord to return her embrace.
He feels oddly disappointed as she pulls away, giving him another bright smile and a wave accompanied by a breathy "bye, Kevin" before she's skipping down the hall and off to whatever practice she has that day.
He watches with an absented minded fascination as the pleated blue tartan material bounces around her thighs, giving peeks and glimpses at smooth skin and wonders what he did to make her so happy and how he could do it again; hugs from Macy were so much better without the protective padding.