fic: sleeping with JONAS

Mar 29, 2010 23:41

Title: Sleeping With JONAS
Fandom: JONAS
Warning: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Pairing: None
Summary: Friendship!fic A late night study session between five friends, and the morning after


There was some kind of evil light piercing through her eyelids and dragging her from sleep. The sun should know better than to be up at this ungodly hour. She's shifting, trying to hide from the inconsiderate brightness, cheek digging into her rather scratchy and uncomfortably firm pillow. One brown eye cracks open as the realization hits her that this is not her bed.
There's something rather bumpy digging into her thigh and the heavy presence of what she first assumed was her cat, now she's not so sure, resting on her stomach, not to mention that fact that her "pillow" is khaki and really fairly warm. Macy's eyes focus on what appears to be the khaki covered left butt cheek of, if the unnaturally straightened locks are anything to go by, Joe of JONAS, her head resting on his thigh. She can see the curly blond tresses of her best friend splayed over the Lucas boy's back, her face turned from Macy's view, her knees bent slightly as the stylist snoozes on.
One hand reaches down pulling the object of discomfort from under her right leg; a dark chocolate leather size 8 1/2 loafer. She discards the shoe quickly and her fingers settle into absent mindedly running through the curly locks resting on her stomach as her eyes stare up at the ceiling allowing herself time to fully awaken before traveling downwards to the boy currently using her abdomen as a his own pillow. She's sends a silent prayer of thanks that all the Lucas boys seem to be non-snoring non-drooling sleepers as she watches the lead guitarist slumber on.
Her hand doesn't stop it's ministrations on Kevin's hair as she allows her eyes to work their way over the rise and fall of his chest to the shoeless leg jutting out just past the bent elbow being used as a pillow for Joe's sleeping head to the calloused hand resting lightly on a blue cloth covered back to the so similar curly mane tucked next to his eldest brother's side. Nick's back is to her as he sleeps between his elder siblings, knees drawn up to his chest and one sock covered foot just barely touching the top of Stella's head, the other pressed into Joe's ribs. The top of his head was pressed into Kevin's side, his arms curled around his bent legs in a surprisingly child-like display. The normally solemn boy looks strikingly young curled beneath the protective arm of his eldest brother and Macy's struck with the sudden unmistakable knowledge that he's the youngest of the band members; a fact even her super fan-ness seems to overlook around the unarguably most mature Lucas.
Next to Stella's foot there's the remainder of the reason behind her, and the rest of the room's occupants', current positions; the diorama for her and Joe's health class. After begging on Joe's part to his reluctant brothers and a few pouts from Macy to her best friend, the five had set out to finish the project that both brunettes had ample time to finish if they hadn't been such procrastinators, or hadn't agreed to work together instead of finding partners that actually got their work done on time. The clock had read nearly three am by the time they called a break, all five bodies slumping in exhaustion on the floor where she could only assume that they had fallen asleep.
"Kevin," she whispered quietly, shaking the head on her stomach slightly. She felt a pang of guilt at disturbing him from his dreams but she did not go home last night and she can only guess at the number of missed calls on her phone when her mother noticed her absence this morning.
"The raspberries are loose," came the hissing call of warning as green eyes popped open. She smiled lightly as he turned his head, blinking away the last vestiges of his dream and taking stock of their current position. "Morning, Macy," he muttered groggily, eyelids once again lowering before he raised his head, squinting at her in the morning light. "Macy?"
She nodded, not so easy when one is laying down, and whispered a quick "Morning" as he slowly sat up, allowing her to rise from her current position to a sitting one.
She looked around her for her book bag as the guitarist shook his younger brother slightly. "Time to get up, Nicky." His voice was soft, quiet in the stillness of the room and she felt that it fit, her own body automatically moving carefully to her bag in an effort not to disturb the peace.
The peace was cracked though as a startled muttered "ow" was issued from the stylist as Nick's foot made contact with her head as he awoke, and a grumpy "five more minutes," from Joe as he buried his head further into his arms.
Macy stifled a smile as she pulled her phone out, a quick glance at the screen revealed three unread texts and the time; nearing nine am.
Where are u? and Did u stay at Stellas? and a finale Please call. Worried. come across the screen and she quickly texts back, assuring her mother that she's alright, and she simply lost track of time and fell asleep. Crisis avert, she turns back to the room in time to see Stella disappear into the bathroom, emergency make-up bag in hand, Joe's sitting on the ground, legs crossed and blinking blankly at nothing, while Nick is nowhere to be seen.
"Breakfast," comes the one word answer to her unasked question. "And probably the downstairs bathroom." She smiles at Kevin and nods. Stella may be awhile. Sure enough, the stylist emerges from the restroom not a hair out of place and looking fresh out of a salon just as Nick comes up the stairs, doughnuts and pop tarts in hand, while the middle JONAS makes a dash for now unoccupied bathroom and the safety of his hair products.
Her and Stella occupy the small table in the corner of the room, cups of juice in one hand a icing covered cake dough nuts in the other as the two Lucas boys sit on the counter and desk chair, eating their own breakfast. Images of her own bedroom come to mind as she takes in the recording studio and mini kitchenette in the boys' room, and this isn't even taking into consideration Kevin's guitar closet, Joe's personal lighting, Nick's retractable drum set or the small home movie studio all within the band's shared bedroom.
Her blogger eye took in every detail, determined to remember everything for a full report later on her website; last time she was here she left in tears so her memory was not to be trusted. Admittedly there would be several things left out, well everything she deemed too personal, but that didn't stop her from fantasizing about what could of been posted had the band not consisted of people she considered friends.
A bark of laughter suddenly escaped her lips, causing four sets of eyes to focus on her."What is it?" The confused amusement in her best friend's voice mirrored that on the boys faces.
"The title," she answered, a few chuckles still emerging now and then, "of the post of this," she gestured around the room. "Not that I would post it, but if I was going too," she added quickly noticing the subtle tightening of her friends' faces, "I know what I would title it. I've been a blogger for so long that I-"
"Macy," Nick cut her off.
She nodded, taking in Stella's patient waiting and Kevin's happy smile at her babble. Joe was too busy drinking his milk and Nick was impossible to interpret half the time, but the other two were encouraging. "I just thought, that if I did, the title would be 'I Slept With JONAS' and then I realized that... well, you know, it has more than one meaning and... it just made me laugh." It all seemed kind of stupid now that she said it out loud. Joe's milk sprayed over the counter as he let out his own bark of laughter eased her embarrassment, as did Kevin's small smile and blushing cheeks and Stella's few chuckles, even the corners of Nick's lips turned up slightly in amusement. Macy relaxed, allowing her own laughter to join those around her and feeling herself relax into the familiar presence surrounding her.

stella's hot when she's angry, mighty macy misa, nick is intense, fandom: jonas, kevin is awesome, joe's a hoe

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